THE, 

AJHERICAN 
NATION 


VOL.  i. 


THE 

AMERICAN 
NATION 


ITS  EXECUTIVE,  LEGISLATIVE,  POLITICAL, 
FINANCIAL,  JUDICIAL  AND  INDUSTRIAL  HIS 
TORY:  EMBRACJNG  SKETCHES  OF  THE  LIVES 
OF  ITS  CHIEF  MAGISTRATES,  ITS  EMINENT 
STATESMEN,  FINANCIERS,  SOLDIERS  AND 
JURISTS,  WITH  MONOGRAPHS  ON  SUBJECTS 
OF  PECULIAR  HISTORICAL  INTEREST.  BY 
BENSON  J.  LOSSING,  LL.D.,  J.  K.  UPTON,  HON.  A. 
G.  RIDDLE,  HON.  THOMAS  M.  COOLEY,  HON.  J. 
V7.  CAMPBELL,  COL.  CHARLES  WHITTLESEY, 
RT.  REV.  C.  F.  ROBERTSON,  I).  D.  AND  MANY 
OTHER  DISTINGUISHED  WRITERS.  EDITED  BY 
I.  H.  KENNEDY. 


CI EVHLAXD 

ttbc  TSIUlliams  pubhsbtno  Company 


Copyright,  1888. 
By  WILLIAM  \V.  WILLIAMS. 

All  Rights  Reserved. 


IOAN  STACK 


PREFACE. 


IN  offering  to  the  American  people  this  story  of  the  beginnings  and 
growth  of  a  Nation  that,  by  the  direct  and  broad  highway  of 
equal  rights  for  all,  has  attained  the  highest  rank  among  the  peoples 
of  the  earth,  no  apology  need  be  made  for  its  appearance,  whik 
extended  explanation  of  its  purpose  is  unnecessary. 

Shall  argument  be  made  to  show  that  a  knowledge  of  this  story  is, 
by  obligation  of  citizenship,  the  duty  of  all  ? 

No  citizen,  old  or  young,  native  or  foreign  born,  can  be  fully 
prepared  to  do  his  duty  to  the  country  whose  protection  he  enjoys, 
and  the  future  of  which  to  some  extent  lies  in  his  hands,  unless  he 
understands  the  difficulties  through  which  it  has  gone  to  reach  its 
present  greatness,  and  the  many  conflicts  by  which  the  bless 
ings  of  to-day  have  been  won  and  made  secure.  No  matter  what 
lines  of  knowledge  or  culture  ma}-  be  closed  to  the  voter,  or  to  him 
who  is  to  become  one  by  added  years  of  naturalization,  he  cannot 
safely  remain  in  ignorance  as  to  the  history  of  America,  or  the  past  of 
that  government  through  which  his  will  and  purpose  are  made 
known.  Each  question  of  public  policy  that  develops  itself  in  the 
forward  advance  of  events,  depends  for  its  solution  upon  something 
ichat  has  gone  before,  and  no  citizen  can  do  the  duty  of  the  future 
without  a  knowledge  of  the  past. 

The  history  of  our  Nation  has  been  related  in  these  pages  as  never 
before — with  completeness,  exactness  of  statement,  detail  of  descrip 
tion,  liberality  of  judgment  and  breadth  of  purpose  that  no  previous 
attempt  has  reached.  Beginning  with  the  days  that  connect  out 


688 


"i  PREFACE. 

earliest  American  .history  with  tradition  and  romance,  all  the  lines  of 
development  and  growth  have  been  followed  fully  and  carefully  to  the 
present.  No  salient  point  can  be  discovered  that  has  not  been  touched 
upon;  no  question  or  measure  of  importance  that  has  not  been 
described  with  reference  to  its  causes  or  effects;  no  era  that  has  not 
been  fully  considered ;  and  no  statesman  or  warrior  of  note  who  has 
been  forgotten  or  omitted.  It  would  be  a  task  not  necessary  in  this 
connection  to  enumerate  even  a  tithe  of  the  great  events  that  find 
record  herein,  and  that  make  up  the  most  wonderful  story  of  National 
development  to  be  found  in  the  annals  of  the  world. 

Among  the  great  events  chronicled  herein,  the  following  may  be 
specially  mentioned :  That  grand  record  of  American  bravery  that, 
commencing  with  the  French  and  Indian  wars,  carries  us  on  to 
Lexington  and  New  Orleans,  by  Buena  Vista  and  Palo  Alto  to 
Gettysburgh  and  Chickamauga ;  the  struggle  made  by  slavery  to  hold 
its  own,  from  the  Missouri  Compromise  to  the  adoption  of  the 
Fifteenth  amendment;  all  the  questions  that  grew  out  of  the 
Revolution  and  the  War  of  1812;  the  United  States  bank  contro 
versy  ;  the  growth  of  our  protective  tariff;  nullification  and  states 
rights;  the  war  for  the  Union,  and  all  the  questions  preceding  and 
following  it;  the  creation  of  the  National  bank  system;  recon 
struction  and  specie  resumption.  In  the  history  of  each  National 
administration,  all  the  questions  that  were  in  the  fore-front  of  the 
day  find  full  relation.  In  the  histories  of  our  politics,  finances, 
industries,  commerce,  judiciary— with  many  special  papers  by  eminent 
writers— may  be  found  a  mass  of  well-arranged  information  that 
makes  of  this  work  what  it  purports  to  be— a  complete  history  of 
our  Nation  from  the  settlement  of  America  to  the  present  dav.  In 
addition,  the  biographies  of  the  great  men  of  the  past  and  present 
are  fully  given -our  chief  magistrates,  statesmen,  judges,  soldiers, 
financiers  and  philanthropists. 

The  work  done  herein  is  that  of  men  who  have  made  a  deep  stud}' 
of  American  history,  and  have  candidly  set  down  the  truth  as  it  could 
be  ascertained.  No  sectional  or  political  bias  has  stood  in  the  way 
of  that  truth.  No  coloring  has  been  used  to  give  this  one  fame,  or 


PREFACE.  ill 

to  cast  a  shadow  upon  another.  i\o  expense  has  been  spared  by  the 
publishers  to  make  the  work  complete  and  perfect  in  every  form. 
The  number,  quality  and  character  of  the  illustrations  give  to  that 
department  an  excellence  that  cannot  be  challenged.  The  result 
of  the  long  labor  and  great  expense  which  have  attended  the 
preparation  of  the  book,  is  a  gratification  to  the  editor  and  pub 
lishers,  who  cannot  but  feel  that  the  public,  for  whose  good  the  work 
has  been  issued,  will  join  with  them  in  the  belief  that  it  has  a  mission 
in  the  world  that  no  other  has  been  able  to  accomplish. 


CONTENTS, 

VOLUME  i. 
THE  PRE-REVOLUTIONARY  PERIOD. 

PAGE 

Discovery  of  the  American  Continent  —  The  Descent  of  the  Norsemen  upon  Wcst- 
ern  Shores  —  The  Dream  and  Deeds  of  Columbus  —  Other  Bold  Sailors  Explore 
Unknown  Seas  —  The  New  Western  Empire  of  Spain  —  Conquest  and  Settlement 
—Mexico,  Peru  and  Florida  Placed  Under  the  Spanish  Yoke r 

France  and  England  Advance  and  Maintain  their  Claims  —  Seeking  a  Northwest 
Passage  that  No  Man  can  Find  —  Cartier  and  his  Followers  on  the  St.  Law 
rence—Drake  and  his  Voyage  Around  the  World  — The  Attempts  of  Sir  Walter 
Raleigh  — The  Settlement  of  Jamestown  — The  Puritans  and  Mayflower— En 
gland  Gains  a  Permanent  Foothold  at  Last xi 

The  Planting  of  the  Thirteen  Colonies  —  New  England's  Resistance  to  the  Aggres 
sions  of  the  King — A  Republic  in  Fact  but  Not  in  Name  —  The  Growth  of  the 
Spirit  of  Independence  —  The  Condition  of  the  Colonies  in  Detail,  and  their 
Adoption  of  New  England  Ideas — Preparation  for  the  Revolution  through 
Years  of  Silent  Growth xxrv 

THE  REVOLUTIONARY   PERIOD. 

George  Washington  and  his  Preparation  for  his  Great  \York  —  Genealogy  of  the 
Washingtons — The  Location  in  America 3 

Childhood  and  Education S 

The  Causes  of  the  French  War 1(1 

The  Expedition  to  French  Creek 22 

Washington's  First  Cam paign 30 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

..  39 


The  Braddock  Expedition 

To  the  Fall  of  Fort  Duquesne - 46 

Washington's  Marriage  and  Home  Life 53 

The  Ripening  of  the  Revolution ^1 

Concord,  Lexington  and  the  Siege  of  Boston 67 

The  First  Canadian  Campaign— Evacuation  of  Boston 77 

The  Occupation  if  New  York 91 

The  Battle  and  Evacv.ation  of  Long  Island 97 

The  New  Jersey  Campaign— Battles  of  Trenton  and  Princeton 116 

The  Battle  of  Brandywine  and  Loss  of  Philadelphia 126 

Battle  of  Germantown— Close  of  the  Campaign 135 

The  Burgoyne  Campaign 1*2 

The  Winter  at  Valley  Forge— Conway's  Cabal 154 

The  Peace  Commission— Attempt  Against  LaFayette— The  French  Alliance 168 

Battle  of  Monmouth— Court-Martial  of  Lee 173 

Arrival  of  a  French  Fleet— Attempt  Against  Newport— Stony  Point 178 

Siege  and  Fall  of  Charleston— Tarleton's  Butchery 189 

Battle  of  King's  Mountain— Gates  Relieved  by  Greene 195 

Arrival  of  Rochambeau — Treason  of  Arnold 199 

Mission  of  Laurens — Revolt  in  the  Army — The  War  in  the  South 212 

The  Closing  Campaign  of  the  War 220 

From  the  Fall  of  Yorktown  to  the  Peace 227 

Washington's  Home  Life  and  Private  Interests 235 

ADMINISTRATION  OF  GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 


The  First  Presidency  — Inauguration  and  the  Difficulties  Encountered  — Setting  the 
Wheels  of  the  New  Government  in  Motion — A  Term  Purely  of  Organization 242 


PAGE 

The  Second  Term— The  Danger  from  France  and  His  Neutrality-  Proclamation— 
The  Commercial  Treaty  with  England  —  Retirement  from  Office  and  Farewell 
Address 248 

Appointed  Commander-in-Chief  of  the  Armies — Retirement  of  Mt.  Vernon  Life — The 
Final  Days  of  the  Great  Hero  and  His  Peaceful  Death 259 


ADMINISTRATION  OF  JOHN  ADAMS. 

Adams'  Academic,  Collegiate  and  Professional  Education 265 

Early  Law  Practice— The  Seeds  of  Rebellion 275 

The  Stamp  Act  and  Its  Effect— The  Baintree  Resolutions 281 

Anti-Stamp  Arguments  and  Measures — The  Boston  Massacre 288 

Defense  of  the  Soldiers — Elected  to  the  Assembly — Controvers\-  with  Bowdoin 295 

Reply  to  the  Governor — Appointed  Delegate  to  the  First  Congress 302 

Service  in  Congress 310 

The  Two  Missions  to  France 324 

The  Negotiation  of  the  Peace 333 

Further  Foreign  Service — The  Vice-Presidency 338 

Inaugurated  President — The  Differences  with  France — The  Alien  and  Sedition  Laws 
— Opposition  to  the  Administration — Retirement  from  Office  and  Death 34-a 

ADMINISTRATION  OF   THOMAS  JEFFERSON. 

Early  Life — Serves  in  the  Continental  Congress 355 

The  Declaration  of  IndeiXMidence — Service  in  State  Legislature 366 

Elected  Governor — Again  in  Congress — Accepts  a  Foreign  Mission 37H 

Service  in  the  Cabinet  of  President  Washington 38£ 

Elected  Vice- Presi den t 397 

Sxicceeds  John  Adams  as  President — Controversy  as  to  Federal  Appointments — The 
Punishment  of  the  Barbary  States — The  Army  and  Navy — The  Purchase  of 
Louisiana...  ....403 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Jefferson's  Second  Term— Conspiracy  of  Aaron  Burr— New  Troubles  with  England 
—The  Embargo— Retirement  from  the  Presidency 4-10 

Marriage — Family — Home  at  Monticello 41 8 

Views  on  Slavery— Pecuniary  Troubles— Illness  and  Death 422 

ADMINISTRATION  OF  JAMES  MADISON. 

Birth  and  Early  Life 435 

Chosen  Delegate  in  Virginia  Convention — Elected  to  Congress 443 

A  Second  Term  in  the  Legislature 449 

Member  of  Congress  and  of  the  Constitutional  Convention 453 

Reflected  to  Congress 463 

Further  Congressional  Service— Marriage 473 

In  President  Jefferson's  Cabinet— Elected  President— Foreign  Troubles,  Ending  in  a 
Declaration  of  War  with  England 479 

Madison's  Second  Term— The  War  of  1812— The  Sacking  of  Washington— Jackson's 
Victory  at  New  Orleans— The  Treaty  of  Ghent— Retirement  and  Death 486 

ADMINISTRATION  OF  JAMES  MONROE. 

Revolutionary  Service — Elected  to  Congress ....495 

Elected  to  State  Legislature— Opposition  to  Federal  Constitution— Appointed  Min 
ister  to  France 50^ 

Elected  Governor  of  Virginia— Special  Envoy  to  France— In  Madison's  Cabinet 508 

Elected  President— Popularity  of   His  Administration— Strengthening  the  Govern 
ment-    Trouble  with  Spain— A  Great  Financial  Depression 515 

Monroe's   Second    Administration  —The  "  Monroe   Doctrine"— Internal   Improve 
ments—The  End  of  His  Life 524 

ADMINISTRATION  OF  JOHN  QIJINCY  ADAMS. 

Early  Life— Entrance  Upon  a  Public  Career 533 

Elected  Senator— Accepts  a  Foreign  Mission— In  Monroe's  Cabinet  538 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Chosen  President  — Real  Civil  Service  Adopted  — Difficulties  of  Administration  — 
Reelection  Defeated 540 

Again  a  Member  of  Congress 556 

His  Course  on  the  Slaver}'  Question 560 

Last  Years  of  Congressional  Service— Stricken  with  Death  While  at  His  Post 570 

ADMINISTRATION  OF  ANDREW  JACKSON. 

Birth,  Education  and  Earl}'  Political  Service 579 

To  the  Battle  of  New  Orleans 590 

Jackson  in  Florida — His  Presidential  Campaign  and  Election 601 

His  First  Administration — A  Marked  Epoch  in  American  Politics — Foreign  Com 
mercial  Relations— Internal  Improvements— Nullification— The  Tariff. 617 

The  Second  Administration  —  The  Great  United  States  Bank  Controversy  —  The 
Removal  of  the  Deposits — Diplomatic  Relations  with  France — The  Increased 
Agitation  of  the  Slavery  Question— Jackson's  Death 633 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


VOLUME   I. 

The  White  House Frontispiece.    PAGE 

Washington  on  a  Surveying  Tour facing         18 

Redoubt  at  Pittsburgh,  Built  in  1764 21 

Braddock's  Battlefield  as  it  Appears  To-day 29 

George  Washington  as  a  Soldier facing         42 

Martha  Washington "             50 

The  Wythe  House "              58 

Patrick  Henry "             66 

Israel  Putnam "              82 

John  Sullivan 98 

Benjamin  Franklin 106 

George  Clinton 114 

The  Roger  Morris  House 122 

Washington's  Headquarters  at  Morristown,  New  Jersey 130 

General  Burgoyne 138 

Philip  Schuyler 146 

Burgoyne's  Surrender 154 

Horatio  Gates 162 

Marquis  de  Lafayette "           170 

Anthony  Wayne 17S 

Nathanael  Greene 194 

Benedict  Arnold "           202 

Major  Andre 203 

The  Nelson  House 218 

Washington  Taking  Leave  of  His  Army 227 

Mount  Vernon 235 

Arthur  St.  Clair 242 

John  Jay •«           250 

George  Washington "           258 

Martha  Washington 259 

John  Adams "           265 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

Samuel  Adams facing           290 

John  Hancock "                306 

Group  of  Franklin,  Jay  and  others 337 

Residence  o f  J ohn  Ad ams 345 

Thomas  Jefferson 355 

Edmund  Randolph •«               368 

Alexander  Hamilton 392 

Aaron  Burr 400 

Elbridge  Gerry 4-08 

Benjamin  Lincoln 4-16 

Monticello— The  Home  of  Thomas  Jefferson 425 

James  Madison 435 

Montpelier— The  Home  of  James  Madison 473 

James  Monroe 495 

Residence  of  James  Monroe 528 

John  Quincy  Adams 533 

James  Duane 544 

Residence  of  J.  Q.  Adams 568 

Andrew  Jackson 579 

Residence  of  Andrew  Jackson 624 

William  Wirt...  "               633 


[The  following  portraits  in  the  above  table  of  Illustrations  are  used  by  permission  of  the  publishers  of  the 
MAGAZINK  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY,  vir  :  Patrick  Henry,  George  Clinton,  General  Burgoyne,  John  Jay,  Samuel 
Adams,  John  Hancock,  Edmund  Randolph,  Elbridge  Gerry,  Alexander  Hamilton,  James  Duane,  William  Wirt.] 


THE  PRE-REVOLUTIONARY  PERIOD  OF 
AMERICAN    HISTORY. 


THE  world  was  content  for  a  time  to  date  European  knowledge 
of  the  American  continent  back  only  to  the  day  when  Columbus 
and  his  adventurous  companions  discerned  the  new  shore-line  in 
the  distant  west,  and  so  far  as  actual  historical  proof  is  concerned, 
no  definite  step  can  be  taken  beyond  that  point.  But  fearless  investi 
gation  and  the  opening  of  new  sources  of  information  have 
revealed  a  more  than  possible  past  for  America,  that  has  broader 
foundations  than  the  theories  of  the  lost  Atlantis,  the  migration  of 
the  American  Indian  from  the  west  of  Asia,  or  the  visit  of  that 
Chinese  explorer,  Ilwui  Shin,  to  the  far-off  Fu-sang  kingdom,  which 
some  say  was  Japan  and  some  America.  Evidence  not  altogether 
circumstantial  has  been  advanced  to  show  that  the  bold  and  hardv 
Norsemen,  pushing  westward  with  hearts  that  knew  no  fear,  and 
restless  cravings  for  motion  that  onlv  the  rocking  of  the  dragon- 
headed  boat  upon  the  cold,  white  seas  of  the  north,  as  it  dashed  on 
ward  into  unknown  regions,  could  satisfy,  were  the  advance-guard 
of  old-world  discoverers,  and  planted  foot  upon  the  eastern  shore  of 
the  far  hemisphere  long  ere  Columbus  dreamed  of  a  new  road  to 
India,  or  Catholic  Spain  had  a  thought  of  the  proud  possessions  she 
should  gain  beyond  the  seas. 

This  reputed  descent  of  the  Northmen  upon  the  American  coast  is 
by  some  relegated  altogether  to  romance  and  speculation,  while  many 
historians  of  discernment  and  judgment  have  weighed  all  the 
evidence  and  given  their  decision  in  support  of  its  truth.  There  is 


YI  THE    AMERICAN    NATION. 

much  in  favor  of  the  theory  they  advance,  for  the  men  who  discovered 
Iceland  and  Greenland  and  added  them  to  the  trophies  of  the  Scan 
dinavian  race,  might  well  cross  over  the  narrow  channel  that  lay 
between  their  last  outpost  of  exploration  and  the  main  land, 
and  touch  a  continent  that  to  their  vision  should  seem,  perhaps, 
only  another  island  locked  in  polar  seas.  This  we  do  know, 
that,  in  860,  one  Naddoddr,  a  Norse  pirate,  was  blown  out 
of  his  course,  and  found  himself  upon  the  shores  of  Iceland ;  that 
sixteen  years  later  another  sailor,  driven  westward  by  adverse  winds, 
saw  in  the  distance  a  land  which  he  did  not  touch,  but  which  Eric  the 
Red,  in  981,  went  in  search  of  and  found,  and  which  from  the  verdure 
upon  it  he  called  "Greenland,"  that  people  of  his  nation  might  be  led 
to  make  it  their  home. 

Beyond  these  we  must  look  to  those  grand  old  sagas,  or  written 
records  of  Iceland,  for  evidence  that  the  Norse  was  here  before  the 
Genoan  or  the  Spaniard— a  source  of  information  open  to  doubt,  and 
yet  true  to  much  that  is  already  surely  known.  In  these  we  are  told 
that  subsequent  to  the  descent  of  Eric  upon  the  Greenland  coast,  the 
vikings  had  sailed  away  to  the  south,  where  one  Bjarni,  in  985,  dis 
covered  a  fair  country,  to  which  the  name  of  "Vinland"  was  given. 
The  story,  as  told  in  the  saga,  is  full  of  action  and  motion,  Homeric 
in  the  greatness  of  the  theme,  and  yet  circumstantial  and  detailed  in 
narration.  The  best  obtainable  translation — that  by  Arthur  James 
Weise — is  fragrant  with  the  breath  of  romance,  and  as  brave  and 
sharp  as  the  north  wind  in  its  sense  of  motion  and  adventure.  "They 
intrusted  themselves  to  the  ocean  and  made  sail  three  days,  until 
the  land  passed  out  of  their  sight  from  the  water.  But  then  the 
bearing  breezes  ceased  to  blow,  and  northern  breezes  and  a  fog  suc 
ceeded.  Then  they  were  drifted  about  for  many  days  and  nights,  not 
knowing  whither  they  tended.  After  this  the  light  of  the  sun  was 
seen,  and  they  were  able  to  survey  the  regions  of  the  sky.  Now  they 
carried  sail,  and  steered  this  day  before  they  beheld  land."  .  .  They 
"soon  saw  that  the  country  was  not  mountainous,  but  covered  with 
trees  and  diversified  with  little  hills.  .  .  Then  they  sailed  two  days 
before  thev  saw  another  land.  .  .  They  then  approached  it  and 


THE    PRE-REVOLUTIONARY    PERIOD.  VII 

saw  that  it  was  level  and  covered  with  trees.  Then,  the  favorable 
wind  having  ceased  blowing,  the  sailors  said  that  it  seemed  to  them 
that  it  would  be  well  to  land  there,  but  Bjarni  was  unwilling  to  do 
so.  .  .  He  bade  them  make  sail,  which  was  done.  They  turned  the 
prow  from  the  land  and  sailed  out  into  the  open  sea,  where  for  three 
days  they  had  a  favorable  south-southwest  wind.  They  saw  a  third 
land,  but  it  was  high  and  mountainous  and  covered  with  glaciers. 
They  did  not  lower  sail,  but  holding  their  course  along  the  shore, 
they  found  it  to  be  an  island.  Again  they  turned  the  stern  against  the 
land  and  made  sail  for  the  high  sea,  having  the  same  wind,  which 
gradually  increasing,  Bjarni  ordered  the  sails  to  be  shortened,  for 
bidding  the  use  of  more  canvas  than  the  ship  and  her  outfit  could  con 
veniently  bear.  Thus  they  sailed  for  four  davs,  when  they  saw  a 
fourth  land" — which  proved  to  be  the  Greenland  of  which  they  were 
in  search.  The  next  visit  to  this  new-found  region  was  made  near  the 
year  1000  by  Leif,  the  son  of  Eric  the  Red.  The  first  point  upon 
which  he  touched  was  "a  land  of  icv  mountains,"  which  he  named 
Helluland,  and  afterwards  a  "level  countrv covered  with  trees,"  which 
he  called  Markland.  Again  the  hardy  adventurers  set  sail  toward  the 
vast  unknown  before  them,  and  after  days  of  travel  "went  ashore  at 
a  place  where  a  river  flowed  out  from  a  lake,"  where  thev  "erected 
large  buildings"  and  resolved  to  remain  during  the  winter.  In  the 
spring  they  discovered  "wine-berries,"  and  because  of  that  the  place 
was  named  Vinland.  Leif  then  sailed  back  to  Greenland.  In  the 
spring  of  1007  an  expedition  of  three  ships  departed  in  search  of  the 
new  land.  Touching  Helluland  and  then  Markland  they  "sailed 
southward  along  the  coast,"  and  found  not  only  lands  to  the  south, 
but  wheat  and  people,  "swart  and  ugly,"  with  "coarse  hair,  large 
eyes  and  broad  cheeks,"  with  whom  they  fought  and  for  fear  of  whom 
they  "determined  to  depart  and  return  to  their  own  land."  Many 
later  visits  to  Vinland  were  made  by  the  Norsemen,  the  record  in 
the  sagas  carrving  us  up  to  the  fourteenth  century.  The  exact  loca 
tion  of  the  described  region  is  not  definitely  known,  and  probably 
never  will  be,  but  that  it  was  upon  the  coast  of  America  there  can  be 
little  doubt.  Some  say  that  it  was  no  farther  south  than  south  Green- 


VIII  THE    AMERICAN    NATION. 

land  or  perhaps  Labrador,  while  evidence  is  at  hand  to  show  that  it 
may  have  been  Rhode  Island. 

Beyond  the  region  of  guess-work  lies  our  knowledge  of  the  expedi 
tion  that  set  sail  from  the  port  of  Palos  on  the  third  of  August,  1492. 
Columbus  stands  forth  upon  the  page  of  human  history  with  a  dis 
tinctness  that  casts  Bjarni  and  even  Eric  the  Red  into  the  shadow, 
and  the  prize  he  won  for  Europe  has  made  his  name  one  of  the  few 
that  all  peoples  will  remember  through  all  time.  Spanish  hesitation 
as  to  the  profitableness  of  the  venture  kept  his  hope  for  a  long  time 
in  the  balance,  but  at  last  he  found  himself  in  command  of  three 
small  vessels,  far  from  fit  for  a  voyage  across  the  great  seas,  and  car 
rying  one  hundred  and  twenty  persons  in  all.  "On  losing  sight  of 
this  last  trace  of  land,"  says  Washington  Irving,  in  noting  his  depart 
ure  from  Ferro,  the  last  of  the  Canary  islands,  "the  hearts  of  the 
crews  failed  them.  They  seemed  literally  to  have  taken  leave  of  the 
wrorld."  Yet  the  brave  spirit  and  the  well-meant  promises  of  the 
leader  prevailed,  and  on  and  on  they  sailed.  "It  was  on  Friday 
morning,  the  twelfth  of  October,"  continues  Irving,  "that  Columbus 
first  beheld  the  new  world.  As  the  day  dawned,  he  saw  before  him  a 
level  island,  several  leagues  in  extent,  covered  with  trees  like  a  con 
tinual  orchard.  Though  apparently  uncultivated,  it  was  populous, 
for  the  inhabitants  \vere  seen  issuing  from  all  parts  of  the  woods  and 
running  to  the  shore."  Yet  Columbus  never  dreamed  that  he  had 
added  two  great  continents  to  the  possessions  of  the  superior  civiliza 
tion  of  the  old  world.  He  believed  that  he  had  already  partly  circum 
navigated  the  world,  and  that  India  had  been  reached.  In  his  own 
quaint  language,  in  a  letter  to  the  treasurer  of  Ferdinand  and  Isa 
bella,  written  on  shipboard,  March  14,  1493,  he  says: 

"Thirty-three  days  after  my  departure  from  Cadiz,  I  reached  the 
Indian  sea,  where  I  discovered  many  islands,  thickly  peopled,  of 
which  I  took  possession,  without  resistance,  in  the  name  of  our  most 
illustrious  monarch,  by  public  proclamation  and  with  unfurled  ban 
ners.  To  the  -first  of  these  islands,  which  is  called  by  the  Indians 
Guanahani,  I  gave  the  name  of  Blessed  Saviour  (San  Salvador),  rely 
ing  upon  whose  protection  I  had  reached  this  as  well  as  the  other  isl- 


THE    PRE-REVOLUTIOXARY    PERIOD.  IX 

ands.  To  each  of  these  I  also  gave  a  name,  ordering  that  one  should 
be  called  Santa  Maria  de  la  Conception;  another  Fernandina;  the 
third,  Isabella;  the  fourth,  Juana;  and  so  on  with  all  the  rest  respec 
tively.  As  soon  as  we  arrived  at  that  which,  as  I  have  said,  was 
named  Juana  [now  Cuba],  I  proceeded  along  its  coast  a  short  dis 
tance  westward,  and  found  it  to  be  so  large  and  apparently  without 
termination  that  I  could  not  suppose  it  to  be  an  island,  but  the  con 
tinental  province  of  Cathay  [or  Tartary]  .  .  .  Thus  it  has  happened  to 
me  in  the  present  instance,  who  have  accomplished  a  task  to  which 
the  powers  of  mortal  man  have  never  hitherto  attained ;  for,  if  there 
have  been  those  who  have  anywhere  written  or  spoken  of  these  isl 
ands,  they  have  done  so  with  doubts  and  conjectures ;  and  no  one 
has  ever  asserted  that  he  has  seen  them,  on  which  account  their  writ 
ings  have  been  looked  upon  as  little  else  than  fables.  Therefore  let  the 
king  and  queen,  our  princes  and  their  most  happy  kingdoms,  and  all 
the  other  provinces  of  Christendom  render  thanks  to  our  Lord  and 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  who  has  granted  us  so  great  a  victory  and  such 
prosperity.  Let  processions  be  made  and  sacred  feasts  be  held  and 
the  temples  be  adorned  with  festive  boughs.  Let  Christ  rejoice  on 
earth,  as  he  rejoices  in  heaven,  in  the  prospect  of  the  salvation  of  the 
souls  of  so  many  nations  hitherto  lost.  Let  us  also  rejoice,  as  well 
on  account  of  the  exaltation  of  our  faith  as  on  account  of  the  in 
crease  of  our  temporal  prosperity,  of  which  not  only  Spain  but  all 
Christendom  will  be  partakers.  Such  are  the  events  which  I  have 
briefly  described.  Farewell. 

CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS, 
Admiral  of  the  Fleet  of  the  Ocean. 
Lisbon,  the  14th  of  March." 

There  never  was,  in  the  history  of  man,  and  there  never  can  be 
again,  -so  important  a  geographical  event  as  this  discovery  of  the 
American  continent;  and  could  the  story  of  its  discovery,  conquest 
and  settlement  be  told  with  such  fullness  as  the  detailed  incidents  in 
each  of  the  avenues  of  approach  could  furnish,  nothing  more  marvel 
ous  in  romance,  or  more  thrilling  in  the  wars  and  conquests  ot  the 


X  THE    AMERICAN    NATION. 

dark  ages,  could  be  found  and  written  to  the  edification  and  instruc 
tion  of  mankind .  Columbus  merely  touched  the  outer  shore,  and  sailed 
back  to  Spain  to  find  that  Diaz,  the  Portuguese  mariner,  had  found 
the  Cape  of  Good  Hope.  These  were  great  events,  that  grew  no  less 
great  when  the  monarchs  of  Spain  and  Portugal  proceeded  to  coolly 
divide  between  themselves  "all  the  unknown  land  and  seas  to  the  east 
and  the  west  of  a  meridian  line,  which  should  be  drawn  from  pole 
to  pole,  one  hundred  and  seventy  leagues  west  of  the  Azores"  —  a 
partition  which  received  the  sanction  of  the  greatest  power  on  earth, 
when  Pope  Alexander  VI.  confirmed  it  by  special  decree. 

With  DeSoto  in  Florida  and  upon  the  broad  Mississippi,  Cortez  in 
Mexico  and  Pizarro  in  Peru,  Spain  had  indeed  made  a  secure  and 
profitable  foothold  in  the  new  world.  But  the  prize  was  not  to  be 
made  secure  without  the  advancement  of  claims  from  rival  nations. 
America  was  too  great  to  fall  peacefully  into  the  possession  of  one 
nation,  even  though  she  might  be  as  powerful  as  was  Spain  four  cen 
turies  ago ;  and  France  and  England  were  soon  sending  their  adven 
turous  sons  in  the  wake  of  Columbus,  across  the  seas.  Yet  the  influ 
ence  of  the  Spaniards  was  felt  at  every  point.  Within  twenty  years 
after  the  first  voyage  of  Columbus,  they  had  planted  colonies  upon 
four  of  the  largest  West  Indian  islands,  while  more  than  a  century 
passed  before  any  other  European  nation  had  performed  a  like  feat, 
with  the  exception  of  small  settlements  made  by  the  Portuguese  in 
Brazil.  While  Mexico  and  Peru  were  falling  an  easy  prey  to  Spain, 
and  the  Florida  regions  were  laid  under  claims,  the  other  European 
nations  contented  themselves  with  expeditions  of  discovery  along  the 
various  coasts. 

Not  long  after  Columbus  had  told  his  triumphant  story,  the  sailors 
of  France— no  less  skillful  and  brave  than  their  neighbors  to  the 
south— turned  the  prows  of  their  small  ships  westward,  and  entered 
also  upon  the  perils  of  the  unknown  seas.  John  Denys,  as  early  as 
1506,  explored  the  St.  Lawrence  gulf;  and  in  1524  Verrazano,  an 
Italian  sailor,  was  sent  out  by  Francis  I.  of  France,  reached  the 
American  coast  near  the  point  now  known  as  Cape  Fear,  and  cruising 
northward  visited  the  bay  of  New  York  and  Narragansett  bay. 


THE    PRE-REVOLUTIONARY    PERIOD.  XI 

He,  also,  was  searching  for  a  westward  passage  to  India,  but  was 
soon  convinced  that  the  land  before  him  was  the  part  of  a  great  con 
tinent  before  unknown.  Returning  to  France,  his  report  to  that  effect 
met  such  credence  that  in  1534  Jacques  Cartier  was  sent  to  America  in 
command  of  two  ships,  to  explore  the  country  and  perhaps  found  a 
French  colony.  He  cruised  about  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  which  he 
named ;  entered  a  bay  which  he  called  the  Bay  of  Chaleur ;  landed,  and 
raising  the  cross  and  the  banner  of  France  over  the  new  land,  took 
possession  of  it  in  the  name  of  his  king.  The  next  vear  he  was  sent 
forth  with  a  still  larger  following.  Pushing  cautiously  up  the  St. 
Lawrence,  he  reached  the  present  site  of  Montreal,  spent  the  winter 
on  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  carried  his  party  back  to  France  in  the 
following  spring.  From  these  movements  and  others  of  like  charac 
ter,  the  French  laid  claim  to  that  portion  of  the  new  world  into  which 
the  St.  Lawrence  furnished  a  pathway,  and  New  France  took  its 
place  upon  the  rectified  geographies  of  the  day.  The  feeling  with 
which  the  Frenchman  looked  upon  the  assumption  by  Spain  of  an 
ownership  to  it  all,  was  well  voiced  in  the  imperious  utterance  of 
Francis  I.:  "What!  Shall  the  kings  of  Spain  and  Portugal  divide  all 
America  between  them,  without  suffering  me  to  take  a  share  as  their 
brother?  I  would  fain  see  the  article  in  Adam's  will  that  bequeaths 
that  vast  inheritance  to  them." 

Nor  was  England  idle  while  these  stirring  scenes  were  being  enacted 
by  her  continental  neighbors.  Her  people  were  a  race  of  sailors, 
and  Canada,  Australia  and  India  to-day  speak  something 
the  British  idea  of  acquired  domain.  With  the  English  mariner  the 
belief  of  a  northwest  passage  to  India  was  an  inherited  faith.  The 
endeavor  to  seek  it  became,  as  Samuel  Adams  Drake  has  well  stated 
it,  "a  field  for  the  brave  and  adventurous  of  this  nation,  who,  from 
year  to  year,  spreading  their  tattered  sails  to  the  frozen  blasts  of 
the  Polar  seas,  grimly  fought  their  way  on  from  cape  to  headland, 
in  desperate  venture,  lured  by  the  vain  hope  of  finding  the  open 
waters  of  their  dreams  lying  just  beyond  them.  It  is  a  story  of 
daring  and  peril  unsurpassed.  Many  a  noble  ship  and  gallant  crew 
have  gone  down  while  attempting  to  solve  those  mysteries  which 


XH  THE    AMERICAN    NATION. 

the  hand  of  God  would  seem  forever  to  have  sealed  up  from  the 
knowledge  of  man."  It  was  this  dazzling  dream  that  led  Henry 
Hudson,  in  1610,  to  sail  into  the  great  bay  that  bears  his  name, 
where  his  crew  wickedly  abandoned  him  and  left  him  to  his  fate. 
Yet  that  bay  was  still  entered  by  the  English  navigators,  who  were 
sure  that  it  must  lead  to  an  open  polar  sea.  "In  view  of  the  suffer 
ing  to  which  all  were  alike  subject,"  continues  Drake,  " these  frost 
biting  voyages  might  be  said  to  show  more  heroism  than  sound, 
practical  wisdom;  yet  with  the  riches  of  the  Indies  spead  out  before 
their  fancy,  and  all  England  to  applaud  their  deeds,  the  best  of 
England's  sailors  were  always  ready  to  peril  life  and  limb  for  the 
prize.  All  who  came  back  told  the  same  tale— of  seas  sheeted  in 
ice,  suns  that  never  set,  lands  where  nothing  grew,  cold  so  extreme 
that  all  nature  seemed  but  a  mockery  of  the  all-wise  design  of  the 
Creator  himself."  So  much  for  the  spirit  with  which  England  turned 
her  attention  toward  the  new  found  American  coast. 

Going  back,  now,  to  the  year  1497,  we  see  Henry  VII.  of  England 
authorizing  John  Cabot  to  seek  not  only  for  new  lands  that  would 
add  to  the  possessions  of  the  English  crown,  but  also  for  this 
northwest  passage  to  Asia.  On  the  twenty-sixth  of  June  he  discov 
ered  land  which  was  probably  the  island  of  Newfoundland.  On 
July  3  he  reached  the  coast  "of  Labrador,  which  made  him  the  first 
of  modern  navigators  to  discover  the  continent  of  America,  as 
Columbus  did  not  reach  it  until  some  thirteen  months  afterwards. 
He  followed  the  coast  line  southward  some  nine  hundred  miles,  and 
then  returned  to  England.  The  next  year  his  son  Sebastian  made 
a  voyage  to  the  same  region,  also  with  instructions  to  seek  the  north 
western  road  to  India,  which,  it  is  needless  to  say,  he  did  not  find. 
The  real  discoveries  that  the  Cabots  did  make  won  little  heed  in 
England,  which  overlooked  the  benefits  near  at  hand  for  those  not 
possible  to  obtain.  But  England  could  not  be  long  in  these  west 
Atlantic  waters  without  coming  into  collision  with  her  foe  to  the 
south,  and  although  the  road  to  Asia  was  not  discovered,  many  of 
the  voyages  of  English  merchants  and  captains  were  made  profitable 
by  attacks  upon  Spanish  ships  and  Spanish  settlements.  In  1577  Sir 


THE    PRE-REVOLUTIOXARY    PERIOD.  XIII 

Francis  Drake  set  sail  from  England  with  five  vessels;  three  years 
later  he  sailed  back  into  Plymouth  harbor  with  only  one.  He  had 
visited  the  coast  of  our  present  California,  and,  crossing  the  Pacific 
ocean,  had  rounded  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  and  thus  sailed  around 
the  globe.  With  the  destruction  of  the  Armada  in  the  English  channel 
in  1588,  the  power  of  Spain  began  to  decline,  and  English  and  French 
influences  became  dominant  ere  long  upon  the  American  side  of  the 
sea. 

While  the  Frenchmen  at  the  north,  and  the  Spaniards  and  Portuguese 
to  the  south,  were  making  their  way  into  the  wilderness,  it  is  with 
the  English  advance  that  a  record  of  colonial  America  has  prin 
cipally  to  deal;  for  it  was  not  by  St.  Augustine  or  the  St.  Lawrence 
that  came  those  influences  which  gave  us  the  Declaration  of  Indepen 
dence  and  the  Constitution  of  1789,  but  from  Plymouth  and  James 
town. 

The  Elizabethan  age  of  England  was  the  witness,  with  all  its 
glories  of  literature,  discovery  and  arms,  of  much  suffering  and  want 
among  the  lower  classes  ;  and  for  the  needy  and  unemployed  the  plan 
of  emigration  to  the  fertile  lands  across  the  sea  was  proposed.  By 
gift  of  the  queen,  Sir  Humphrey  Gilbert  was  given  a  patent  by  which 
he  was  empowered  to  inhabit  and  fortifv  all  land  in  America  not 
then  in  the  occupation  of  Christian  nations.  Gathering  a  company 
of  the  unemployed  about  him,  he  set  sail  with  live  vessels,  and  in  due 
season  reached  Newfoundland,  where  he  halted  to  make  repairs. 
Taking  possession  in  the  name  of  his  queen,  he  again  set  sail  for 
a  more  hospitable  coast;  but  a  great  storm  overtook  him,  and 
four  of  the  five  vessels  went  down.  Only  one  was  left  to  make  its 
way  back  to  England  as  best  it  could,  and  tell  the  terrible  story 
of  disaster.  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  a  half-brother  of  Gilbert,  who  had 
been  a  member  of  the  expedition  and  escaped  the  fate  of  his  leader, 
was  not  discouraged  bv  these  ill  fortunes.  A  patent  was  obtained 
constituting  him  lord  proprietor,  with  powers  almost  unlimited, 
of  "all  land  which  he  might  discover  between  the  thirty-third  and 
fortieth  degrees  of  north  latitude."  Under  these  ample  powers  he 
dispatched  two  vessels  westward,  under  command  of  Philip  Ainidas 


XIV  THE    AMERICAN    NATION. 

and  Arthur  Barlow.  In  July,  1584,  they  reached  the  coast  of  North 
America,  where  they  landed,  gave  thanks  to  God  for  their  safe 
passage,  and  performed  the  customary  ceremony  of  taking  possession 
in  the  name  of  the  virgin  queen.  They  had  landed  upon  the  island  of 
Wocoken.  "The  forests  formed  themselves  into  wonderfully  beautiful 
bowers,  frequented  by  multitudes  of  birds.  It  was  like  a  Garden 
of  Eden,  and  the  gentle,  friendly  inhabitants  appeared  in  unison  with 
the  scene.  On  the  island  of  Roanoke  they  were  received  by  the  wife 
of  the  king,  and  entertained  with  Arcadian  hospitality."  The  word 
that  came  back  to  England  warmed  an  already  glowing  enthusiasm 
into  new  life,  and  many  were  ready  to  follow  the  fortunes  of  their 
immigrant  friends.  Raleigh,  obtaining  the  royal  assent  for  such  high 
honor,  conferred  the  name  of  Virginia,  after  the  virgin  queen,  upon  all 
that  country  between  the  French  possessions  on  the  north  and  the 
Spanish  on  the  south,  and  extending  westward  as  far  as  future 
exploration  should  show  the  land  to  reach — a  distance  that  no  man 
then  living  could  \vell  appreciate  or  understand. 

On  the  ninth  of  April,  1585,  Sir  Richard  Grenville,  with  seven 
vessels  and  one  hundred  colonists,  left  England  and  safely  reached 
Roanoke  island,  where  they  needlessly  and  arrogantly  made  enemies 
of  the  peaceful  Indians,  by  destroying  a  village  and  setting  fire  to  the 
standing  corn,  because  a  silver  cup  was  missing,  which  it  was  sup 
posed  the  Indians  had  stolen.  Ralph  Lane  was  made  governor  of 
the  colony,  and  left  in  charge  when  the  ships  made  sail  once  more  for 
home.  Lane  made  brief  explorations  of  the  country  about  him,  writ 
ing  home:  "It  is  the  goodliest  soil  under  the  cope  of  heaven;  the 
most  pleasing  territory  in  the  world;  the  continent  is  of  huge  and 
unknown  greatness,  and  very  well  peopled  and  towned,  though  sav 
agely.  The  climate  is  so  wholesome  that  we  have  none  sick.  If  Vir 
ginia  had  but  horses  and  kine  and  were  inhabited  by  English,  no 
realm  in  Christendom  were  comparable  with  it."  This  venture  that 
promised  so  much  came  to  naught.  The  cruel  punishment  that  had 
turned  the  friendly  tribes  about  them  into  enemies,  brought  direful 
consequences  upon  the  heads  of  those  by  whom  it  had  been  adminis 
tered  ;  for  no  sooner  were  the  ships  away  than  the  Indians  grew  hos- 


THE    PRE-REVOLUTIONARY    PERIOD.  XV 

tile,  and  threatened  destruction  to  the  little  colony.  And  when  the 
ships  of  Sir  Francis  Drake,  who  had  been  carrj-ing  fire  and  the  sword 
to  a  goodly  number  of  Spanish  vessels,  appeared  upon  the  coast,  he 
was  hailed  as  a  deliverer,  and  carried  the  homesick  Englishmen  back 
to  Europe  in  one  of  his  ships.  Hardly  had  they  gone  before  a  vessel 
of  relief,  sent  by  Raleigh,  made  its  appearance,  but  finding  no  one  to 
succor,  it  soon  spread  wings  also  and  away  to  England.  It  wr.s  not 
well  beyond  sight  of  the  coast  line  before  three  other  vessels,  under 
command  of  Sir  Richard  Grenville,  made  their  appearance.  A  vain 
search  was  made  for  the  little  colony,  who  had  left  no  notice  of  their 
return  to  England.  Grenville  then  returned  also  to  England,  leaving 
fifteen  men  on  Roanoke  island  to  hold  possession  for  the  whites. 
Raleigh  soon  fitted  out  another  expedition,  connected  with  which  were 
many  farmers  and  women  and  children,  with  nianv  implements  of 
husbandry.  Nothing  was  found  of  the  fifteen  left  in  charge  except  their 
bones,  amid  the  ruins  of  their  little  fort.  The  events  that  rapidlv  fol 
lowed — in  which  ma}'  be  read  in  brief  terms  one  of  the  romantic  mvs- 
teries  of  American  history— have  been  thus  described  as  follows  by 
Mary  Howitt:  "When  White  reached  England  (on  his  return  for  sup- 
plies  and  reinforcements)  he  found  the  whole  nation  absorbed  by  the 
threats  of  the  Spanish  invasion.  Raleigh,  (irenville  and  Lane,  Fro- 
bisher,  Drake  and  Hawkins,  all  were  employed  in  devising  measures 
of  resistance.  It  was  twelve  months  before  Raleigh,  who  had  to  de 
pend  almost  entirely  upon  his  own  means,  was  able  to  dispatch  White 
with  supplies;  this  he  did  in  two  vessels.  White,  who  wished  to 
profit  by  his  vovage,  instead  of  at  once  returning  without  loss  of 
time  to  his  colony,  went  in  chase  of  Spanish  prizes,  until  at  length  one 
of  his  ships  was  overpowered,  boarded  and  rifled,  and  both  compelled 
to  return  to  England.  This  delay  was  fatal.  The  great  events  of  the 
Spanish  Armada  took  place,  after  which  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  found 
himself  embarrassed  with  such  a  fearful  amount  of  debt  that  it  was 
no  longer  in  his  power  to  attempt  the  colonization  of  Virginia;  nor 
was  it  till  the  following  year  that  White  was  able  to  return,  and  then, 
also  through  the  noble  efforts  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  to  the  unhappy 
colony  Roanoke.  Again  the  island  was  a  desert.  An  inscription  on 


XVI  THE    AMERICAN    NATION. 

the  bark  of  a  tree  indicated  '  Croatan ; '  but  the  season  of  the  year 
and  the  danger  of  storms  furnished  an  excuse  to  White  for  not  going 
thither.  What  was  the  fate  of  the  colony  never  was  known.  It  has 
been  conjectured  that  through  friendship  of  Manteo  (an  Indian  chief) 
they  had  probably  escaped  to  Croatan ;  perhaps  had  been,  when  thus 
cruelly  neglected  by  their  countrymen,  received  into  a  friendly  tribe  of 
Indians,  and  became  a  portion  of  the  children  of  the  forests.  The 
Indians  had,  at  a  later  day,  a  tradition  of  this  kind,  and  it  has  been 
thought  that  the  physical  character  of  the  Hatteras  Indians  bore  out 
the  tradition.  The  kind-hearted  and  noble  Raleigh  did  not  soon  give 
up  all  hopes  of  his  little  colony.  Five  different  times  he  sent  out  at 
his  own  expense  to  seek  for  them,  but  in  vain.  The  mysterv  which 
veils  the  fate  of  the  colonists  of  Roanoke  will  never  be  solved  in  this 
world."  Raleigh  deserved,  himself,  a  better  fate  than  awaited  him. 
Troubles  thickened  about  him  at  home,  and  he  had  such  need  of 
thought  for  himself  that  he  could  give  little  to  Virginia,  which  he  de 
clared  he  should  yet  "live  to  see  an  English  nation."  He  did  not  see 
the  prophecy  fulfilled.  James  I.  became  king  of  England,  and  Raleigh's 
head  went  to  the  block. 

The  spirit  of  discovery  and  adventure  which  the  stirring  times  had 
aroused  in  England,  led  Bartholomew  Gosnold  to  sail  direct  from 
England  to  America  without  touching  the  Canaries  and  the  West 
Indies,  as  had  been  the  custom  heretofore.  He  made  the  venture  in 
a  small  vessel,  in  1602,  and  in  seven  weeks  safely  reached  the  coast  of 
Massachusetts.  Finding  no  good  harbor  he  continued  his  course 
southward,  and  landing  upon  a  promontory,  called  it  Cape  Cod— 
which  name  it  has  retained  to  this  day.  He  discovered  the  islands  of 
Elizabeth  and  Martha's  Vineyard.  The  ship  was  laden  with  furs  and 
sassafras,  bartered  from  the  Indians,  and  made  preparations  to  leave 
a  colony  and  return  home ;  but  when  the  hour  of  departure  arrived, 
those  who  had  agreed  to  remain  repented  themselves  of  their  decision, 
and  all  returned  home.  The  reports  brought  by  the  party— with  the 
shortness  of  time  required  for  the  direct  voyage — excited  new  move 
ments,  and  in  the  year  following,  a  company  of  merchants  of  Bristol 
dispatched  two  small  vessels,  under  command  of  Martin  Pring,  for 


THE    PRE-REVOLUTIONARY    PERIOD.  XVII 

the  purpose  of  trade  with  the  natives.  The  result  was  the  discovery 
of  some  of  the  principal  rivers  of  Maine  and  an  examination  of  the 
coast  of  Massachusetts.  In  1614  Captain  John  Smith,  of  Virginian 
fame,  also  visited  the  Massachusetts  coast,  sailed  into  Massachusetts 
bay  "till  he  came  up  into  the  river  between  Mishawam,  afterwards 
called  Charlestown,  and  Shawmutt,  afterwards  called  Boston,  and, 
having  made  discovery  of  the  land,  rivers,  coves  and  creeks  in  the 
said  bay,  and  also  taken  some  observation  of  the  manners,  dis 
positions  and  sundry  customs  of  the  numerous  Indians,  or  nations 
inhabiting  the  same,  he  returned  to  England."  Emulating  the 
example  of  the  Frenchmen  who  had  founded  a  New  France  to  the 
north,  he  named  all  this  country  New  England — an  appellation  it  still 
retains 

The  commercial  instinct  that  lies  back  of  the  greater  part  of 
English  colonization  was  not  lacking  here.  The  return  of  Gosnold 
and  the  reports  he  carried  led  to  the  formation  of  a  companv  for 
the  purpose  of  planting  colonies  upon  the  new  shores.  The  name 
of  "The  Virginia  Compan}""  was  given  to  this  organization,  and 
received  from  the  crown  the  right  to  hold  all  the  land  from  the  St. 
Croix  river  to  Cape  Fear.  It  was  divided  into  two  divisions,  the 
one,  the  London  company,  to  have  control  of  the  southern  portion 
of  this  territory,  and  the  other,  the  Plymouth  company,  to  control 
the  northern.  The  London  company  had  the  honor  of  founding  the 
first  English  colon v  in  America.  Three  vessels,  commanded  bv  Cap 
tain  Christopher  Newport  and  manned  by  one  hundred  men,  were 
sent  out  with  instructions  to  land  on  Roanoke  island.  A  stress 
of  weather  drove  them  into  Chesapeake  bay,  and  such  were 
the  attractions  of  the  place  that  they  determined  to  make  it  their 
place  of  settlement.  Sailing  up  a  beautiful  river,  which  they 
named  the  James  in  honor  of  their  king,  they  chose  the  site  of 
their  colon}',  and  called  it  Jamestown,  in  pursuance  of  the  loyal 
homage  above  indicated.  This  landing  was  made  upon  May  13, 
1607. 

In  a  work  so  largelv  given  to  the  administrative  and  political 
history  of  America,  it  cannot  but  be  of  interest  to  note  the  form 


XVIII  THK    AMERICAN    NATION. 

of  government  that  had  been  arranged  for  this,  the  first  English 
colony  to  gain  a  foot-hold  upon  American  shores.  King  James  was 
ambitious  for  the  increase  of  his  power,  and  was  already  striving 
to  make  the  crown  more  independent  of  the  people.  In  the  patent 
conferred  upon  the  Virginia  company,  he  had  carefully  provided 
for  such  government  for  the  new  colonies  as  should  keep  them  under 
his  direct  control.  The  instructions  for  the  line  of  civil  policy  that 
was  to  be  pursued,  had  been  placed  in  a  sealed  box,  that  was  not 
opened  until  the  landing  at  Jamestown.  It  was  then  discovered 
that  seven  men  had  been  appointed  a  governing  council,  among 
whom  were  Gosnolcl,  Newport  and  Captain  John  Smith,  who  was 
also  a  member  of  the  expedition. 

The  fortunes  of  the  little  colony  were  by  no  means  as  brilliant 
and  secure  as  had  been  anticipated,  while  inherent  evils  of  organ 
ization  and  purpose  were  responsible  for  much  of  the  ill  fortune 
that  followed.  The  successful  search  for  gold  that  the  Spaniards 
had  pursued  in  Mexico  and  Peru  had  inflamed  the  desires  of  the 
English,  who  did  not  know  that  a  like  search  in  the  region  of  the 
James  would  not  produce  like  brilliant  results.  Many  of  the  gen 
try  who  had  come  with  the  colonists  had  no  other  purpose  in  view 
than  this,  and  agriculture  and  the  arts  were  sadly  neglected.  The 
position  chosen  proved  unhealthful,  and  much  sickness  ensued.  One- 
half  the  colom^  was  swept  away  by  pestilence,  and  the  remainder 
were  only  saved  by  the  friendly  aid  of  the  Indians.  Warfare  of  an 
internal  character  added  its  discouragements.  Captain  Smith  was 
not  allowed  to  take  his  place  in  the  council,  by  the  action  of  enemies, 
and  was  finally  arrested  upon  charges  afterwards  shown  to  be 
false.  After  several  months  of  struggling  for  his  rights,  he  so  boldly 
and  successfully  proved  his  innocence  and  demanded  his  rights  that 
he  was  given  his  proper  place  in  the  council.  It  was  a  timely  aid 
that  he  brought,  as  the  president  found  himself  unable  to  cope  with 
the  dangers  and  difficulties  of  the  situation,  and  gradually  allowed 
the  direction  of  events  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  Smith.  ''At  the 
approach  of  winter,"  wrote  Charles  Campbell,  in  his  ' History  of  the 
Colony  and  Ancient  Dominion  in  Virginia,'  "the  rivers  of  Virginia 


THE    PRE-REVOLUTIONARY    PERIOD.  XIX 

abounded  in  wild  fowl,  and  the  English  now  were  well  supplied  with 
bread,  peas,  persimmons,  fish  and  game.  But  this  plenty  did  not 
last  long,  for  what  Smith  carefully  provided,  the  colonists  carelessly 
wasted.  The  idlers  at  Jamestown,  including  some  of  the  council, 
now  began  to  mutter  complaints  against  Smith  for  not  having 
discovered  the  source  of  the  Chickahominy,  it  being  supposed  that  the 
South  sea  or  Pacific  ocean  lay  not  far  distant,  and  that  a  commu 
nication  with  it  would  be  found  by  some  river  running  from  the  north 
west.  The  Chickahominy  flowed  in  that  direction,  and  hence  the 
solicitude  of  these  Jamestown  cosmographers  to  trace  the  river  to 
its  head.  To  allay  this  dissatisfaction  of  the  council,  Smith  made 
another  voyage  up  that  river,  and  proceeded  until  it  became  neces 
sary,  in  order  to  pass,  to  cut  away  a  large  tree  which  had  fallen 
across  the  stream."  Thus  ended  another  of  the  efforts  by  which 
Asia  was  to  be  reached  by  a  short  cut  westward.  The  main  result 
of  this  expedition  was  a  fight  with  the  Indians,  the  capture  of  Smith, 
and  his  story  of  Pocahontas'  brave  interposition  to  save  his  life — a 
narration  that  is  not  considered  by  historians  as  grounded  upon  any 
deep  foundation  of  fact.  When  Smith  was  released  by  the  kindness  of 
the  Indian  king,  he  returned  to  Jamestown  to  find  the  little  colony 
reduced  to  forty.  A  gleam  of  light  in  their  darkening  fortunes 
came  soon  after,  when  Newport  arrived  with  a  supply  of  stores 
and  some  additional  settlers.  But  the  gleam  of  sunshine  did  not 
long  continue.  The  town  was  almost  burned  to  the  ground  by  an 
accident.  The  stock  of  provisions  ran  low,  and  the  colonists  were 
soon  reduced  to  a  diet  of  meal  and  water.  Want  and  the  exposure 
to  cold  had  their  legitimate  effects,  and  the  already  dwindling 
number  was  reduced  one-half.  Newport  set  sail  for  England,  leaving 
Ratcliffe,  the  president,  in  full  power,  able  to  manage  affairs  as  he 
pleased.  ''The  spring  now  approaching,"  Campbell  continues, 
"  Smith  and  Scrivener  undertook  to  rebuild  Jamestown,  repair  the 
palisades,  fell  trees,  prepare  the  fields,  plant,  and  erect  another  church. 
While  thus  engaged,  thev  were  joyfully  surprised  by  the  arrival  of 
the  Phoenix,  commanded  by  Captain  Nelson,  who  had  left  England 
with  Newport  about  the  end  of  the  year  1607,  and,  after  coming  in 


XX  THE    AMERICAN    NATION. 

sight  of  Cape  Henry,  had  been  driven  off  to  the  West  Indies.  He 
brought  \vith  him  the  remainder  of  the  first  supply,  which  comprised 
one  hundred  and  twenty  settlers.  Having  found  provisions  in  the 
West  Indies,  and  having  economically  husbanded  his  own,  he  im 
parted  them  generously  to  the  colony,  so  that  now  there  was 
accumulated  a  store  sufficient  for  half  a  year." 

In  September,  1608,  Smith  accepted  the  office  of  president,  which  he 
had  formerly  declined.  Among  the  people  who  had  arrived  in  the 
Phoenix  were  thirty-three  "gentlemen,"  whom  the  colony  did  not 
want,  and  a  number  of  laborers,  tailors,  jewelers,  a  gunsmith,  a 
cooper,  etc.,  who  might  be  made  of  some  avail.  Smith  set  himself  to 
work  to  make  such  use  of  this  conglomerate  material  as  the  circum 
stances  would  allow.  It  is  recorded  that  he  "now  set  the  colonists  to 
work— some  to  make  glass,  others  to  prepare  tar,  pitch  and  soap- 
ashes;  while  he,  in  person,  conducted  thirty  of  them  five  miles  below 
the  fort  to  cut  down  trees  and  saw  plank.  Two  of  this  lumber  party 
happened  to  be  young  gentlemen  who  had  arrived  in  the  last  supply. 
Smith  sharing  labor  and  hardship  in  common  with  the  rest,  these 
\voodmen  at  first  became  apparently  reconciled  to  the  novel  task,  and 
seemed  to  listen  with  pleasure  to  the  crashing  thunder  of  the  falling 
trees,  but  when  the  axes  began  to  blister  their  unaccustomed  hands, 
they  grew  profane,  and  their  frequent  loud  oaths  echoed  in  the  woods. 
Smith  taking  measures  to  have  the  oaths  of  each  one  numbered,  in 
the  evening,  for  each  offense  poured  a  can  of  water  down  the  of 
fender's  sleeve.  And  this  curious  discipline,  or  wrater  cure,  was  so 
effectual  that  after  it  was  administered  an  oath  would  scarcely  be 
heard  for  a  week." 

Want,  Indian  outbreaks  and  internal  dissensions  make  up  the  his 
tory  of  Jamestown  during  the  following  year,  and  in  1609  Smith 
gave  up  such  remnant  of  authority  as  he  yet  retained  over  a  town 
full  of  factions,  and  sailed  to  England,  never  to  return.  No  sooner 
was  he  away  than  all  order  and  subordination  were  at  an  end.  The 
colonists,  who  were  already  famished  and  liable  at  any  moment  to  be 
destroyed  utterly  by  the  Indians,  were  only  waiting  a  chance  to  aban 
don  the  enterprise  altogether,  when  the  opportune  arrival  of  Lord 


THE    PRE-REVOLUTIOXARY    PERIOD. 

Delaware  put  a  new  face  upon  affairs.  He  brought  not  only  a  fleet 
filled  with  colonists  and  supplies,  but  authority  and  a  purpose  to 
make  such  use  of  it  as  the  occasion  demanded.  The  next  few  years,  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Jamestown,  witnessed  energetic  and  decisive 
measures  in  several  directions.  Lord  Delaware,  and  those  who  suc 
ceeded  him  as  the  governors  of  Virginia,  ruled  with  almost  kingly 
power,  passing  and  enforcing  severe  laws,  building  forts  in  various 
quarters  and  waging  merciless  war  upon  the  Indians.  One  ol  the 
number,  Sir  Thomas  Dale,  receiving  information  that  the  French  were 
settling  in  the  north,  in  territory  claimed  by  the  English,  sent  an  ex 
pedition  against  them,  which  laid  waste  to  a  fishing  village  on  the 
coast  of  Maine.  On  the  way  back,  a  visit  was  paid  to  the  Dutch 
located  at  Fort  Orange  and  Manhattan  island  (New  York),  who 
were  ordered  to  pull  down  the  Dutch  flag — a  command  that  was 
obeyed  onlv  as  long  as  the  English  remained  in  sight. 

The  English  settlements  along  the  James  and  from  thence  down  to 
the  sea,  began  to  thrive;  tobacco  was  cultivated  and  sent  across  the 
seas,  and  the  greatness  and  development  witnessed  in  the  near  future 
began  to  be  foreshadowed.  Meanwhile,  a  change  that  had  much  to  do 
with  the  independent  spirit  of  later  years  made  itself  apparent  in 
England.  The  Virginia  company  gradually  passed  into  the  control  of 
men  opposed  to  the  king  and  an  extension  of  his  powers,  and  who 
favored  an  extension  of  the  liberties  of  the  people.  This  change  was 
made  apparent  by  the  appointment  of  Governor  Yeardley  to  control  of 
affairs  in  Virginia,  who  was  sent  forth  with  directions  to  call  a  meet 
ing  of  planters  and  land-holders  "who  were  to  consult  together  and 
make  laws  for  the  government  of  the  colony." 

Thus,  in  1011),  the  first  Virginia  assembly,  or  house  of  burgesses, 
was  held,  and  thus  began  in  America  the  government  bv  the  people. 
And  it  may  be  added,  as  an  opposing  shadow  to  this  brightening 
picture,  that  it  was  in  this  same  year  of  1619  that  a  Dutch  trader 
sailed  his  ship  up  the  James  river  and  sold  to  the  planters  of  Virginia 
twenty  negroes  who  had  been  captured  in  Africa. 

Going  back  to  the  year  of  1607,  we  may  find  in  the  secret  migration 
of  a  few  families  from  the  northeast  of  England  to  Holland,  the  begin- 


THE    AMERICAN    NATION. 

ning  of  a  movement  and  the  definite  expression  of  a  force  that  had 
much  to  do  with  the  America  of  to-day.  Forsaking,  as  they  had,  the 
Church  of  England  because,  to  their  consciences,  it  was  no  nearer  the 
truth  than  the  Church  of  Rome,  they  turned  direct  to  the  Scriptures  for 
their  rule  of  action,  and  left  their  homes  because  they  could  not  and 
would  not  render  the  obedience  the  state  church  demanded.  In  Hol 
land  they  could  have  a  shelter  but  no  home ;  remaining  there,  their 
children  must  become  a  part  of  that  Teutonic  land,  and  no  longer 
Englishmen. 

Many  men  and  many  classes  had  already  found  a  refuge  in  the 
new  lands  over  ocean,  and  toward  that  land  their  eyes  and  thoughts 
were  turned.  Jamestown  offered  no  advantage  over  England  itself, 
for  the  Church  of  England  was  the  recognized  ecclesiastical  authority 
there.  The  New  Netherlands  was  proposed  and  rejected  because  they 
would  become  the  subjects  of  a  trading  company.  The  result  was 
the  formation,  among  the  friends  in  England,  of  a  company  that 
should  send  them  to  the  northern  portion  of  the  territory  under 
control  of  the  Virginia  company.  A  portion  of  their  number  were 
sent  ahead  to  prepare  the  way.  Embarking  in  the  ship  Speedwell, 
they  sailed  from  the  port  of  Delft-Haven  in  Holland,  to  Southampton 
in  England,  where  they  were  joined  by  the  Mayflower.  But  when 
the  long  voyage  was  entered  upon  it  wras  found  that  the  Speedwell 
was  not  safe,  and  the  whole  company  were  compelled  to  trust  them 
selves  to  the  little  Mayflower.  "And  when  the  ship,"  we  find  it 
written  in  the  '  Chronicles  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers  of  the  Colony 
of  Plymouth,'  "was  ready  to  carry  us  away,  the  brethren  that  staid, 
having  again  solemnly  sought  the  Lord  with  us  and  for  us,  and  we 
further  engaging  ourselves  mutually  as  before— they,  I  say,  that  staid 
at  Leyden,  feasted  us  that  were  to  go,  at  our  pastor's  house,  being 
large,  where  we  refreshed  ourselves,  after  tears,  with  singing  of 
psalms,  making  joyful  melody  in  our  hearts,  as  well  as  with  the  voice, 
there  being  many  of  the  congregation  very  expert  in  music;  and 
indeed  it  was  the  sweetest  melody  that  ever  mine  ears  heard.  After 
this  they  accompanied  us  to  Delph's  Haven,  where  we  were  to 
embark,  and  there  feasted  us  again.  And  after  prayer  performed 


THE    PRE-REYOLUTIOXARY    PERIOD.  XXIII 

by  our  pastor,  where  a  flood  of  tears  was  poured  out,  they  accom 
panied  us  to  the  ship,  but  were  not  able  to  speak  one  to  another 
for  the  abundance  of  sorrow  to  part.  But  we  only  going  aboard — 
the  ship  lying  to  the  quay  and  ready  to  set  sail,  the  wind  being  fair — 
we  gave  them  a  volley  of  small  shot  and  three  pieces  of  ordnance; 
and  so,  lifting  up  our  hands  to  each  other,  and  our  hearts  for  each 
other  to  the  Lord  bur  God,  we  departed,  and  found  his  presence  with 
us  in  the  midst  of  our  manifold  straits  he  carried  us  through." 

The  Mayflower — one  of  the  few  ships  that  have  become  immortal 
ized  in  historv — was  a  vessel  of  one  hundred  and  eighty  tons,  whose 
condition  was  such  that  an  end  was  nearly  put  to  the  whole  expedi 
tion.  The  people  aboard  were  so  crowded  for  room  that  even  the 
shallop  on  the  deck  "  was  damaged  by  being  used  for  a  sleeping- place." 
The  voyage  was  stormy  and  full  of  peril  and  discomforts,  seas  sweep 
ing  over  them  so  that  they  were  "wet  continuously,"  while  their 
provisions  were  well-nigh  spoiled.  They  had  been  full  sixty  days 
away  from  their  last  English  port  when  land  was  sighted— not  within 
the  limits  of  territory  assigned  to  the  Virginia  company,  but  among 
the  shoals  of  Cape  Cod.  An  attempt  was  made  to  sail  to  the  south,  but 
they  were  unable  to  find  their  way  through  the  shoals.  Land  of  any 
kind  was  a  blessing,  especially  to  the  sick  and  homesick  women ;  and 
the  "clamors  to  be  put  ashore  were  irresistible."  Thus  the  anchor  of 
the  Ma\-flo\vcr  was  dropped  in  the  harbor  of  Cape  Cod,  and  the  cold 
and  desolate  Plymouth  Rock  received  the  first  impress  of  Puritanism 
in  America,  rather  than  the  fertile  fields  that  had  been  sought  to  the 
further  south. 

It  was  soon  discovered  that  no  settlement  could  be  formed  upon  the 
spot  where  they  had  landed,  as  there  was  no  good  water  to  be  had. 
Parties  of  exploration  were  sent  out  along  the  coast,  and  their  report 
was  such  that  all  the  company  returned  to  the  M;iyflo\vcr  and  sailed 
along  the  inside  of  the  bay  to  a  sheltered  nook,  where  they  cast 
anchor.  Here  was  not  only  a  brook  of  clear  water,  but  fields  which 
had  been  cleared  by  the  Indians  for  planting.  The  point  had  been 
marked  Plymouth  by  Captain  John  Smith  in  his  map  of  the  New 
England  coast,  and  from  that  fact,  and  from  Plymouth  having  been 


XXIV  THE    AMERICAN    NATION. 

the  last  place  which  they  had  touched  in  England,  the  name  was 
bestowed  upon  the  little  settlement  which  they  set  themselves  to 
form . 

The  historic  compact,  which  was  made  by  those  aboard  the 
Mayfio\vcr  before  going  ashore  to  found  their  settlement,  was  in  its 
essential  purpose  a  measure  of  self-protection  and  mutual  help — each 
agreeing  to  stand  by  the  other,  to  obey  the  laws  that  the  majority 
might  make,  and  to  decide  all  questions  by  vote  in  public  meetings. 
John  Carver  was  elected  governor. 

The  first  measure  taken  upon  landing  was  one  of  defense.  A  plat 
form  was  built  upon  the  hill,  upon  which  several  guns  were  mounted. 
A  house,  twenty  feet  square,  was  erected,  in  which  their  goods  were 
stored,  and  where  they  themselves  might  find  shelter.  A  town  was 
laid  out  and  house  lots  assigned  to  each  family.  The  village  was  en 
closed  with  palings  and  gates  set  at  proper  places.  The  fields  to  be 
cultivated  lay  outside,  and  all  the  families  were  to  have  a  right  in 
common  to  woodland  and  pasture-land.  All  their  earnings  were  to 
,go  into  a  common  stock,  to  be  paid  to  the  company  of  merchants 
who  had  furnished  means  for  their  passage  across  the  sea. 

Dark  and  doleful  times  lay  before  the  little  company,  who  had 
escaped  the  peril  of  the  sea  only  to  face  the  many  terrors  and 
troubles  of  life  in  the  bleak  land  that  was  to  become  their  home.  The 
men  had  hardh-  set  themselves  to  work  for  the  rearing  of  needed 
habitations,  when  sickness  from  exposure  and  bad  food  set  in.  In 
four  months  nearly  one-half  their  number  were  dead  ;  and  at  one  time 
during  the  winter  their  fortunes  were  at  so  low  an  ebb  that  only  half 
a  dozen  had  strength  sufficient  to  nurse  the  sick  and  bury  the  dead. 
"Destitute  of  every  provision  which  the  weakness  and  the  daintiness 
of  the  invalid  requires,"  writes  Palfrey,  "the  sick  lay  crowded  in  the 
unwholesome  vessel,  or  in  half  built  cabins  heaped  around  with  snow 
drifts.  The  rude  sailors  refused  them  even  a  share  of  those  coarse 
sea-stores  which  would  have  given  a  little  variety  to  their  diet,  till 
disease  spread  among  the  crew,  and  the  kind  ministrations  of  those 
whom  they  had  neglected  and  affronted  brought  them  to  a  better 
temper.  The  dead  were  interred  in  a  bluff  bv  the  water-side,  the 


THE    PRE-REVOLUTIONARY    PERIOD.  XXV 

marks  of  burial  being  carefully  effaced,  lest  the  natives  should  dis 
cover  how  the  colony  had  been  weakened.  The  imagination  fairly 
tasks  itself  to  comprehend  the  horrors  of  that  fearful  winter.  The 
only  mitigations  were  that  the  cold  was  of  less  severity  than  is  usual 
in  the  place,  and  that  there  was  not  an  entire  want  of  food  and  shel 
ter.  Meantime,  courage  and  fidelity  never  gave  out.  The  well  car 
ried  out  the  dead  through  the  cold  and  snow,  and  then  hastened  back 
from  the  burial  to  wait  on  the  sick;  and,  as  the  sick  began  to  recover, 
they  took  the  places  of  those  whose  strength  had  been  exhausted. 
There  was  no  time  and  there  was  no  inclination  to  despond.  The  les 
son  rehearsed  at  Leyden  was  not  forgotten — 'that  all  great  and  hon 
orable  actions  arc  accompanied  with  great  difficulties,  and  must  be 
both  enterprised  and  overcome  with  answerable  courage.'  The  dead 
had  died  in  a  good  service,  and  the  lit  way  for  survivors  to  honor  and 
lament  them  was  to  be  true  to  one  another  and  to  work  together 
bravely  for  the  cause  to  which  dead  and  living  had  alike  been  conse 
crated.  The  devastation  increased  the  necessity  tor  preparations  for 
defense;  audit  was  at  the  time  when  the  companv  was  diminishing 
at  the  rate  of  one  on  every  second  day,  that  a  military  organization 
was  formed,  with  Standish  for  captain,  and  the  humble  fortification 
on  the  hill  overlooking  the  dwellings  was  mounted  with  five  guns. 
'Warm  and  fair  weather'  came  at  length,  and  the  'birds  sang  in  the 
woods  most  pleasantly.'  Never  was  spring  more  welcome  than 
when  it  opened  on  this  afflicted  company." 

With  internal  affairs  thus  made  brighter,  the  dangers  from  without 
grew  no  less.  The  friendship  at  first  shown  bv  the  Indians  soon  gave 
way  to  enmity  and  open  threats  of  war.  The  action  of  the  English 
men  was  prompt,  and  eventually  proved  effective.  In  1G22  there 
came  to  the  little  colonv  from  the  Xarragansetts,  a  bundle  of  arrows 
tied  with  a  snake's  skin,  which  conveyed  a  declaration  of  war.  Brad 
ford,  then  governor,  filled  the  snake-skin  with  powder  and  ball  and 
returned  it — a  message  that  was  so  well  understood  that  the  Indians 
for  the  time  desisted  from  their  purpose.  The  vear  following,  a  con 
spiracy  to  murder  all  the  whites  was  discovered ;  but  Miles  Standish 


XXVI  THE    AMERICAN    NATION. 

promptly  disposed  of  all  the  ring-leaders  therein,  and  thus  enforced  a 
peace  that  lasted  for  some  years. 

A  certain  measure  of  prosperity  followed  the  founding  of  the  col 
ony  ;  and  such  was  the  hopeful  and  determined  spirit  of  the  Puritans 
that  when  the  Ma y flower  returned  to  England  in  the  April  following 
the  winter  above  described,  not  a  man  of  them  went  with  her.  As 
time  went  by,  new  accessions  came,  and  after  a  time  it  was  found 
necessary  to  give  up  the  plan  by  which  all  the  property  was  owned  by 
the  trading  company.  Each  man  wras  therefore  allotted  a  part  of  the 
common  land,  to  own  and  cultivate  as  best  he  could. 

Meanwhile,  events  upon  the  English  side  of  the  sea  w^ere  shaping 
themselves  rapidly  and  unconsciously  for  the  future  creation  of  a 
great  republic  upon  the  American  shores.  King  James  I.  was  still  in 
sisting  that  he,  and  not  the  people,  was  the  owner  of  all  the  soil  in  the 
great  little  island  which  had  suffered  so  much  for  such  portion  of 
liberty  as  it  vet  possessed,  and  was  urging  relentless  war  upon  the 
Puritans,  who  had  vainly  hoped  much  from  the  Presbyterianism,  in 
which  James,  as  King  of  Scotland,  had  been  reared.  The  troubles  be 
tween  king  and  parliament  were  increasing,  and  many  who  loved 
England  much,  but  liberty  more,  were  debating  whether  the  hard 
ships  of  the  New  England  coast  were  not  to  be  preferred  to  the  tyran 
nies  at  home.  In  this  condition  of  affairs,  a  Puritan  minister  of 
Dorchester,  John  White,  planned  a  settlement  at  Cape  Ann,  in  Massa 
chusetts  bay.  His  idea  was  endorsed  and  put  in  operation  by  various 
merchants  of  London,  who  formed  the  corporation  of  "The  Governor 
and  Company  of  the  Massachusetts  Bay,  in  New  England."  In  1629 
they  secured  from  Charles  I.,  who  sat  upon  the  throne  from  which 
death  had  called  his  father,  a  charter  that  gave  power  to  the  members 
of  the  company  to  choose  annually  from  their  own  number  a  gov 
ernor,  deputy  governor  and  eighteen  councilors.  They  could  make 
laws  for  the  government  of  the  territory  they  owned,  which  laws, 
however,  must  agree  with  those  of  England.  The  portion  of  the 
country  allotted  to  them  was  described  as  extending  from  the  At 
lantic  to  the  Western  ocean,  and  from  the  Merrimac  river  to  the 
Charles.  The  difficulties  that  had  arisen  newly  in  England  between 


THE    PRE-REVOLUT1OXARY    PERIOD.  XXVII 

Charles  and  the  bishops  on  one  side,  and  the  people  on  the  other, 
aided  emigration  under  the  auspices  of  this  company,  many  gentle 
men  of  rank  and  fortune  selling  their  possessions  and  becoming  mem 
bers.  The  final  result  was  a  bold  step  that  meant  much  for  that 
present  and  had  a  deep  impression  upon  the  events  of  the  future. 
The  company  determined  to  move  itself  bodily  across  the  ocean,  carry 
the  charter  along,  and  manage  its  American  affairs  in  the  land  in 
which  they  were  located.  In  the  spring  of  1630  nearly  a  thousand 
persons  left  England  for  the  shores  of  Massachusetts  bay.  Boston 
was  founded  and  other  settlements  sprung  up  about  it.  As  new 
towns  were  created,  a  representation  from  each  was  decided  upon  to 
administer  the  general  affairs  for  them  all,  and  as  a  result  the  general 
court  assembled  in  Boston,  and  made  laws  and  settled  such  disputes 
as  might  arise.  Within  the  next  ten  years  twenty  thousand  persons 
crossed  the  Atlantic  and  made  their  home  in  New  England. 

Thus  the  future  great  nation  was  unconsciously  but  surely  building 
itself  in  different  directions,  each  colony  being  prepared  by  its 
experiences  and  trials  to  depend  upon  itself  and  to  seek  a  needed 
alliance  with  its  neighbors.  The  stirring  events  that  followed  through 
the  next  century  can  only  be  briefly  touched  upon  in  this  connection. 
The  New  England  colonies  from  Maine  to  Rhode  Island  came  into 
existence  one  bv  one,  New  Amsterdam  became  New  York  and 
belonged  to  England  rather  than  Holland.  William  IVnn  and  the 
Quakers,  also  moved  bv  intolerant  persecutions  at  home,  made  their 
memorable  settlement  in  Pennsylvania;  Virginia  grew  rapidly;  Lord 
Baltimore  planted  his  colony  in  Maryland;  the  French  and  Indian 
wars  caused  all  to  make  a  common  cause  against  the  common  enemy, 
and  the  French  power  in  America  disappeared;  the  thirteen  colonies 
became  distinct  parts  of  the  grand  nation  that  time  and  mutual  need 
was  evolving  slowly  but  with  the  certainty  of  fate. 

The  plan  of  self-government,  it  may  be  remarked  in  passing,  was  not 
anexperiment  left  for  the  untried  experience  of  1776,  but  had  found  its 
beginning  on  American  shores  in  1620.  As  it  proved  its  results  by  the 
experience  of  New  England,  those  to  the  south  and  west  were  not 
unmindful  spectators,  but  learned  much  that  was  of  use  in  after  days. 


XXVIII  THE    AMERICAN    NATION. 

In  the  compact  of  the  Mayflower,  the  Puritans  simply  transferred  to 
political  affairs  the  democratic  method  that  held  in  their  church— they 
simply  chose  their  governor  by  general  voice,  as  they  had  already 
selected  the  pastor  of  their  church.  '4  For  eighteen  years  all  laws  were 
enacted  in  a  general  assembly  of  all  the  colonists.  The  governor, 
chosen  annually,  was  but  president  of  a  council  in  which  he  had  a 
double  vote.  It  consisted  first  of  one,  then  of  five,  and  finally  of  seven 
members  called  assistants."  While  the  colony  of  Massachusetts  bay 
was  organized  under  a  charter  from  the  king,  in  its  real  manage 
ment,  it  was  of  the  same  nature  as  that  of  Plymouth.  In  1630,  when 
the  charter  and  government  were  transferred  from  England  to  Massa 
chusetts  as  above  related,  John  Winthrop  was  chosen  governor,  and 
the  first  general  court,  or  legislative  assembly,  was  held  at  Boston  on 
the  nineteenth  of  October  of  the  same  year.  From  that  time  onward  to 
1686  the  people  of  New  England  governed  themselves  under  their 
system  of  general  election,  all  power  being  in  the  people,  and  their 
form  of  government  purely  republican — the  only  restriction  imposed 
in  the  matter  of  franchise  being  that  all  citizens  must  be  members  of 
some  church  within  the  limits  of  the  colony.  It  was  in  1634  that  the 
expansion  of  their  limits  and  the  increase  of  their  numbers  made  it 
inconvenient  for  each  to  exercise  his  political  rights  in  person,  and  so 
the  system  of  representation  was  adopted. 

As  the  other  New  England  colonies  were  created,  the}'  formed  them 
selves  upon  the  Massachusetts  model.  When  the  Connecticut  settle 
ments  formulated  their  constitution  in  1639,  there  was  nothing  in  it 
to  show  that  a  mother  country  was  in  existence.  WThen  Rhode  Island 
was  chartered  by  parliament  in  1644  and  organized  its  government 
three  years  later,  it  adopted  a  democracy  similar  to  that  to  the 
north,  except  that,  out  of  the  Puritan  persecution  of  Roger  Williams, 
there  had  grown  a  clause  that  there  should  be  no  restriction  because 
of  religion,  and  that  "all  men  might  walk  as  their  consciences 
persuaded  them,  without  molestation,  everyone  in  the  name  of  his 
God.'  While  New  Hampshire  and  Maine  were  proprietary  govern 
ments,  under  royal  grants,  they  soon  fell  under  the  influence  of  their 
neighbors,  and  in  1641  New  Hampshire  openlj  denied  the  rights  of 


THE    PRE-REVOLUTIONARY    PERIOD.  XXIX 

the  proprietor,  and  placed  itself  under  the  protection  of  Massachu 
setts. 

All  these  advance  movements  toward  a  political  independence  of 
England,  a  material  independence  having  already  been  achieved,  were 
unmistakable,  although  little  thought  of  future  trouble  seemed  to 
have  been  held  on  the  English  side  of  the  sea.  A  still  bolder  step  was 
taken  in  1643,  when,  as  a  measure  of  protection  against  the  Indians 
and  other  threatened  dangers,  the  colonies  of  Massachusetts,  Connec 
ticut,  New  Haven  and  Plymouth  united  themselves  into  a  Confed 
eracy  under  the  title  of  the  United  Colonies  of  New  England.  Rhode 
Island  was  not  a  party  to  this  compact,  as  she  refused  all  intercourse 
with  Plymouth,  while  New  Hampshire  was  at  that  time  a  part  of  the 
Massachusetts  colony.  The  governing  body  of  this  Confederacy 
consisted  of  an  annual  assembly,  composed  of  two  deputies  from  each 
colon v,  which  had  charge  of  all  matters  relating  to  the  common 
interests,  while  local  affairs  were  controlled  by  local  governments  as 
before. 

In  speaking  at  length  of  these  great  events  so  brieflv  described, 
the  historian,  Charles  Morris,  declares  that  we  see  in  them  "a  remark 
able  progress  towards  a  Federal  republic  of  the  same  type  as  that 
now  existing  in  the  United  States  of  America,  and  constituting  a 
noble  school  for  the  teaching  of  those  principles  of  self-government 
which  have  become  so  deeply  instilled  into  the  minds  of  the  American 
people.  It  may  seem  strange  that  England  so  quietly  permitted 
this  colonial  republic  to  be  formed,  but  the  governing  powers  of 
England  had  work  enough  for  themselves  at  home.  Originally  the 
colonies  were  too  insignificant  for  their  acts  to  call  for  much  atten 
tion,  and  when  the  home  government  did  show  some  disposition 
to  interfere  with  them,  the  colonists,  with  much  shrewdness  and 
show  of  respect,  yet  with  great  tenacity,  held  on  to  the  rights  they 
had  acquired,  and  baffled  by  a  policy  of  delay  and  negation  every 
effort  to  interfere  with  their  privileges.  Ere  long  the  English  royal 
ists  became  engaged  with  a  death  struggle  with  democracy  at 
home,  during  which  they  had  little  leisure  to  attend  to  affairs  abroad; 
and  the  subsequent  overthrow  of  the  government  and  the  establish- 


XXX  THE    AMERICAN    NATION. 

ment  of  a  military  democracy  in  England  were  circumstances  highly 
favorable  to  the  gro\\th  of  republicanism  in  America.  During  this 
period  the  self-governing  principle  made  progress  in  all  the  colonies, 
though  largely  through  the  example  and  influence  of  New  En 
gland." 

In  '1644  another  step  toward  our  present  form  of  government 
was  taken.  When  the  representatives  of  the  people  were  first 
selected  they  sat  in  the  same  room  as  the  governor  and  council,  but 
in  the  year  named  it  wras  ordained  that  the  two  bodies  should  meet 
in  separate  chambers,  which  constituted  the  first  American  legis 
lature  of  two  houses,  the  councilors  being  chosen  by  the  whole  body 
of  the  people  and  the  representatives  by  the  settlements  as  such. 
"The  early  prejudices  in  favor  of  rank  and  title  quickly  disappeared, 
perfect  equality  was  arrived  at,  and  even  such  titles  as  those  of 
Esquire  and  Air.  were  applied  to  but  few  persons,  Goodman  and 
Goodwife  being  the  ordinary  appellations.  Aristocratic  connec 
tions  in  time  became  a  bar  to  public  favor." 

No  restrictions  of  any  sort  had  as  yet  been  placed  upon  the  colonies 
beyond  those  of  a  commercial  character,  which  were  removed  dur 
ing  the  Commonwealth  and  again  imposed  after  the  Restoration. 
No  vessels  but  those  of  England  were  permitted  to  trade  with  the 
colonies,  and  no  article  of  American  manufacture  for  wrhich  there 
was  a  demand  in  England  could  be  shipped  to  any  port  but  hers. 
Free  trade  between  the  colonies  was  restricted  ;  and  at  last  the}^  were 
forbidden  "to  manufacture,  for  use  at  home  or  abroad,  any  article 
that  would  compete  with  English  manufactures."  Naturally  there 
was  complaint  at  these  high-handed  measures,  and  to  settle  these 
and  others  that  had  arisen,  the  crown  sent  commissioners  to  Boston 
in  1664,  with  power  to  "act  upon  all  causes  of  colonial  disturbance." 

The  Americanized  Englishmen  were  not  one  whit  behind  their 
Puritan  brethren  of  the  late  Commonwealth  in  sturdy  independence 
and  a  determination  to  hold  hard  upon  all  the  rights  so  far  secured, 
and  the  coming  of  these  royal  messengers  was  viewed  with  distrust 
and  fear,  as  the  beginning  of  measures  by  which  their  freedom  might 
be  abridged.  They  were  resisted  secretly  or  openly  in  all  the  col- 


THE    PRE-REVOLUTIONARY    PERIOD.  XXXI 

onies,  with  the  exception  of  Rhode  Island,  that  seemed  to  tolerate 
their  presence  with  a  certain  degree  of  respect.  Massachusetts  laid 
deep  stress  upon  her  loyalty  to  the  king,  but  asserted  her  chartered 
rights  and  denied  any  authority  of  control  from  England  that  was 
not  declared  and  defined  in  that  instrument.  The  result  was  the 
recall  of  the  commissioners  and  the  utter  failure  of  their  mission. 
Quiet  reigned  until  1681,  when  Massachusetts  again  put  herself  in 
opposition  to  the  crown,  by  the  signal  defiance  and  defeat  of  a  cus 
tom-house  officer  who  had  been  sent  across  seas  for  the  collection 
of  dues  under  the  burdensome  commercial  restrictions. 

An  early  collision  was  inevitable.  The  purpose  long  held  by  the 
king  of  taking  affairs  into  his  own  hands  and  becoming  a  ruler  in 
fact  as  in  name,  saw  an  excuse  for  realization  in  this  act  of  rebellion. 
It  was  declared  by  judges  of  the  English  courts  that  Massachusetts 
had  forfeited  har  charter,  through  disobedience  to  the  laws  of  En 
gland.  The  death  of  the  king  before  active  measures  could  be  taken 
made  no  change  in  the  situation,  as  his  successor,  James  II.,  proceeded 
vigorously  along  the  same  line  of  policy.  In  1GS6  a  royal  rather 
than  a  charter  government  was  forced  upon  Massachusetts,  and 
Joseph  Dudley  was  placed  by  the  king  in  charge.  An  effort  was  made 
to  secure  a  return  of  the  charter,  which  was  refused,  but  in  1692  a 
new  one  was  granted,  which  vested  the  appointment  of  the  governor 
in  the  king.  Beyond  the  exercise  of  this  right,  "there  was  little  inter 
ference  with  colonial  liberty,  but  the  representatives  of  the  people  for 
manv  years  kept  up  a  violent  controversy  with  the  roval  governors. 
The  latter  demanded  a  fixed  and  permanent  salary.  With  this  de 
mand  the  assembly  refused  to  comply,  claiming  the  right  to  vary  the 
salary  each  year  at  their  pleasure,  and  so  manipulating  this  right 
that  the  amount  of  the  governor's  salary  was  made  to  depend  upon 
the  character  of  his  administration.  The  people  had  learned  their 
lesson  well,  and  held  firmly  in  hand  this  useful  method  of  enforcing  a 
government  in  accordance  with  their  ideas  of  justice  and  utility.  The 
controversy  finally  ended  in  a  compromise,  in  which  the  claim  of  the 
assembly  was  admitted,  while  it  was  agreed  that  a  fixed  sum  should 
be  voted  annually." 


XXXII  THE    AMERICAN    NATION. 

While  the  other  colonies  were  not  so  sure  in  their  faith  in  democ 
racy,  or  so  determined  in  its  assertions,  they  were  still  all  traveling 
slowly  but  surely  along  the  road  in  which  New  England  had  made 
such  sturdy  advance.  In  the  first  Virginian  charter,  that  colony  was 
placed  under  the  absolute  control  of  a  council  residing  in  England 
and  appointed  by  the  king,  who  likewise  appointed  a  council  of  mem 
bers  of  the  colony  for  its  local  administration,  leaving  no  right  of 
self-government  whatever  in  the  people  most  directly  concerned.  In 
1609  the  company  were  given  a  new  charter,  which  allowed  the  En 
glish  councilors  to  fill  vacancies  by  their  own  Azotes  and  to  appoint 
a  governor  whose  power  was  despotic.  The  first  steps  in  the 
direction  of  popular  rights  were  taken  in  1619,  when  martial  law, 
which  had  before  prevailed,  was  abolished  and  a  colonial  assembh- 
convened,  although  the  measures  it  might  pass  could  have  no  legal 
force  until  ratified  by  the  company  in  England.  In  ,1621  another  ad 
vance  step  was  taken  when  a  written  constitution  was  granted,  and 
with  it  came  a  pledge  that  no  orders  of  the  company  in  England 
should  have  force  in  the  colony  until  ratified  by  the  assembly.  Trial 
by  jury  was  established,  and  courts  after  the  form  of  those  held  in  En 
gland.  As  the  spirit  of  independence  became  more  manifest  among 
the  Virginians,  the  king  decided  to  take  the  control  of  affairs  into  his 
own  hands,  and  by  a  judicial  decision  against  the  company,  that  or 
ganization  was  dissolved  and  the  colony  changed  into  a  government 
under  direct  control  of  the  crown.  No  attempt  was  made  to  destroy 
the  assembly,  which  still  continued  in  the  exercise  of  its  powers,  and 
administered  affairs  in  connection  with  a  governor  and  ten  councilors 
appointed  by  the  king. 

Turning  now  to  the  colony  of  Maryland  we  find  it  commencing 
its  career  under  a  charter  of  great  liberality,  which  made  its  members 
equal  in  a  political  sense  and  gave  them  the  right  to  worship  God 
after  the  dictates  of  their  own  conscience.  All  laws  of  the  province 
were  to  be  subject  to  the  approval  of  a  majority  of  the  freemen  or 
of  their  representatives.  The  first  assembly  was  held  in  1635,  to 
which  the  members  of  the  colony  came  direct,  but  in  1639  a  repre 
sentative  government  was  adopted.  In  the  Carolinas,  the  charter 


THE    PRE-REVOLUTIONARY    PERIOD.  XXXIII 

of  1653  gave  to  the  people  religious  freedom  and  a  voice  in  legisla 
tion,  while  the  main  balance  of  power  was  lodged  in  the  proprietary 
corporation.  One  attempt  was  made  to  establish  a  despotic  form 
of  government,  but  the  people  resisted  and  it  ended  in  failure.  "They 
established  a  republican  government  of  their  own,"  says  Morris, 
"elected  delegates  to  a  popular  assembly,  drove  out  tyrannical 
governors  and  replaced  them  by  men  of  their  own  choice,  and  in 
all  displayed  an  aptness  for  and  a  tendency  to  self-government  equal 
to  those  of  any  other  of  the  colonies." 

In  the  colony  of  New  York  there  was  a  growing  discontent  at 
the  severitv  of  the  Dutch  rulers,  and  when  the  power  passed  to  the 
English,  it  was  welcomed  bv  manv  as  offering  a  chance  for  increased 
freedom.  But  there  was  no  change  for  the  better  until  in  1683,  when 
the  duke  of  York  directed  the  governor  to  call  -an  assembly  of  rep 
resentatives  of  the  people.  This  gathering  passed  a  "charter  of 
liberties"  which  placed  the  legislative  power  in  the  governor,  council 
and  people  then  in  assembly,  "gave  to  every  freeman  full  right  to 
vote  for  representatives;  established  trial  bv  jury;  required  that  no 
tax  whatever  should  be  assessed  without  the  assent  of  the  assembly, 
and  that  no  professing  Christian  should  be  questioned  concerning 
his  religion."  All  these  demands  were  not  granted,  but  the  power 
gained  bv  the  people  as  a  part  of  the  law-making  power  was  never 
afterwards  surrendered. 

The  progressive  and  republican  spirit  of  William  Pcnn  had  been 
closelv  reflected  in  the  colonv  to  which  his  name  had  been  given. 
The  charter  he  had  received  from  Charles  II.  was  quite  liberal  in 
its  provisions,  yet  hardly  not  sufficient  to  meet  the  views  of  Penn, 
who  had  promised  those  who  had  followed  him  across  the  sea  that 
they  should  be  ruled  by  laws  of  their  own  making.  In  1682  he 
prepared  and  made  public  his  celebrated  "frame  of  government," 
which  was  amended  by  the  second  assembly  of  the  province,  and 
led  to  the  granting  of  charters  which  made  of  Pennsylvania  ver}' 
nearly  a  representative  democracy.  "The  right  of  appointment 
of  judicial  and  executive  officers,  which  was  reserved  by  the  pro 
prietors  of  the  other  colonies,  was  surrendered  by  William  Penn  to 


XXXIV  THE    AMERICAN    NATION. 

the  people,  and  the  government  consisted  of  the  proprietor  and  the 
assembly,  with  no  intermediate  council,  as  in  Maryland  and  else 
where.  Yet,  liberal  as  this  constitution  was,  the  people  soon  de 
manded  further  concessions  and  privileges,  and  Penn,  in  his  last  visit 
to  his  province,  granted  a  new  charter,  still  more  liberal  and  con 
ferring  greater  powers  upon  the  people,  who  from  this  time  forward 
possessed  a  very  full  measure  of  political  liberty." 

From  the»above  it  will  be  seen  that  at  the  dawning  of  the  eighteenth 
century  the  people  of  the  American  colonies  were  measurably  free  in  a 
political  sense,  and  in  -some  respects  were  even  less  under  arbitrary 
rule  than  England  itself.  In  New  England  the  rights  of  a  republic 
were  practically  granted,  while  Pennsylvania  was  not  far  behind  in 
that  regard,  and  their  examples  were  before  the  yet  less  favored 
colonies  in  illustration  of  what  time  and  shrewd  management  might 
bring  to  all.  The  hundred  years  that  lay  between  1676  and  1776  was 
an  admirable  school  of  self-reliance  and  practical  self-rule;  and  the 
republic  that  came  in  the  wake  of  the  Revolution  \vas,  in  one  sense,  no 
new  and  untried  experiment.  In  the  first  town  meeting  of  New 
England  that  experiment  was  first  tried,  and  the  American  Republic 
was  but  the  fruit  of  long  growth  and  slow  ripening. 

Had  England  been  content  to  leave  her  colonies  free  in  other  ways,  as 
she  did  in  politics,  she  might,  so  far  as  one  can  tell,  be  yet  in  possession 
of  a  great  and  loyal  empire  on  the  west  side  of  the  sea.  But  the 
hardy  and  productive  people  who  had  made  the  wilderness  a  garden, 
were  looked  upon  by  the  rulers  and  merchants  of  the  mother  country 
as  a  source  of  constant  supply,  and  it  was  out  of  financial  and 
economic  oppressions  that  Lexington  and  Yorktown  were  at  last 
evolved.  The  oppressive  commercial  and  manufacturing  regulations — 
treated  of  elsewhere  in  this  book— that  were  imposed  upon  the  infant 
industries  of  the  colonies,  with  undue  taxation  without  representa 
tion,  led  to  discontent,  and  finally  so  widened  the  breach  that  there 
could  be  no  peace.  "In  their  earlier  and  weaker  days,"  as  one  histo 
rian  has  well  said,  "these  evils  were  of  secondary  importance, 
but  with  every  step  of  growth  and  population  and  of  devel 
opment  of  America,  the  right  to  trade  with  whom  they  pleased 


THE  PRE-REVOLUTIONARY  PERIOD.  XXXV 

and  to  manufacture  what  they  pleased  became  of  greater  impor 
tance  to  the  colonists,  until  finally  the  restrictions  in  these  respects 
grew  insupportable.  In  regard  to  the  question  of  taxation,  the  people 
of  Massachusetts  at  an  early  date  strongly  disputed  the  right  of  taxa 
tion  without  representation.  As  time  went  on,  this  sentiment  spread 
to  the  other  colonies,  and  had  become  vigorously  implanted  in  the 
minds  of  all  Americans  by  the  era  immediately  preceding  the  Revolu 
tion.  That  principle  which  had  been  long  fought  for  and  eventually 
gained  in  the  home  country,  that  the  people,  through  their  representa 
tives,  alone  had  the  power  to  lay  taxes,  was  naturally  claimed  in 
America  as  an  essential  requisite  of  a  representative  government;  and 
it  was  mainly  to  the  effort  of  the  English  authorities  to  deprive  the 
colonists  of  this  right  that  the  American  Revolution  was  due." 

The  stirring  events  that  were  enacted  during  the  half  ccnturv  that 
preceded  1776  have  been  fully  described  in  their  proper  place  in 
this  work,  and  need  not  be  dwelt  upon  here.  The  Revolution  was, 
indeed,  no  spasmodic  protest  against  a  specific  oppression,  but  rather 
the  logical  outcome  of  all  that  had  gone  before.  It  might  have  been 
averted  ;  but  in  that  case  the  preventativc  must  have  been  applied  long 
years  before  even  the  keenest-evcd  of  English  statesmen  could  have 
seen  and  understood  the  danger  of  the  future. 


GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 


CHAPTER  I. 

GENEALOGY. 

IN  writing  the  life  of  George  Washington,  the  first  President,  as  he  was 
by  military  leadership  almost  the  creator,  of  the  greatest  Repub 
lic  in  history,  the  author  meets  the  necessity  of  tracing  back  to  the 
remotest  possible  limit,  the  history  of  the  family  to  which  he  belonged. 
The  word  necessity  is  used  advisedly,  for  it  may  well  be  held,  that  a  man 
of  Washington's  most  distinguished  and  illustrious  character  and  accom 
plishments"  is  not  properly  to  be  judged  by  the  immediate  circumstances  of 
his  birth,  the  environment  of  his  youth,  or  the  influences  that  tended  to 
mold  and  define  his  character  during  the  flexible  age  intervening  between 
boyhood  and  full  maturity.  If  there  be  any  reliability  in  the  doctrine  of 
heredity,  the  antecedents  of  a  great  man  should  be  as  relevant  to  his  life  as 
is  a. statement  of  the  elements  mingled  in  the  test  tube  of  the  chemist  to 
the  reaction  that  results. 

In  the  case  of  Washington  are  to  be  found  particular  reasons  for  credit 
ing  the  belief  that  the  character  and  intellect  of  the  father,  like  his  sins,  are 
indeed  visited  upon  the  children,  unto  the  third,  fourth,  and  remaining  gen 
erations;  and  did  we  lack  another  explanation  of  his  ability,  force,  and  integ 
rity,  his  unwavering  bravery  and  patriotic  devotion,  that  trite  and  much 
abused  phrase,  nob/cssc  oblige,  would  suggest  one  quite  sufficient. 

Paradoxical  as  it  may  appear,  Washington  owed  his  name,  though  not 
his  blood,  to  an  accident.  Probably  the  family  from  which  he  sprang  ante 
dated  in  position  and  wealth  the  Norman  conquest.  That  it  held  place  and 
power  in  the  century  immediately  succeeding  that  important  event  is  beyond 
cavil.  3 


4  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

When  William  the  Conqueror  had  mastered  the  immediate  perils  of  his 
invasion,  he  found  himself  faced  and  menaced  by  countless  dangers,  arising 
within  the  territories  which,  by  the  unquestionable  right  of  the  strongest,  he 
called  his  own.  Among  the  most  important  uprisings  that  called  for  his 
attention,  was  that  of  the  independent  and  warlike  Northumbrian  race. 
Having  subjected  these  formidable  insurgents,  and,  after  the  fashion  of  his 
time,  moved  for  their  conciliation  by  despoiling  their  leaders  of  lands,  cas 
tles,  titles,  and  wealth,  the  king  looked  about  for  a  means  by  which,  in 
wisely  distributing  these  confiscated  estates,  he  might  win  to  himself  a 
strong  and  undoubted  personal  loyalty,  and  confront  the  constant  forays  of 
the  half  savage  Scots  with  an  array  of  feudatories  which  should  forever  bar 
their  southward  progress.  Of  the  allegiance  of  the  hereditary  nobility  Wil 
liam  was  none  too  sure,  and  hence  he  turned  to  the  ecclesiastical  power- 
ever  ready,  as  it  has  been, 

"To  bend  the  pregnant  hinges  of  the  knee 
Where  thrift  may  follow  fawning." 

To  this  end  he  established  Episcopal  sees  all  along  the  frontier  line,  and 
advanced  his  trustiest  Norman  and  other  foreign  followers  to  the  dignities 
appertaining  thereto.  One  of  the  wealthiest  and  most  important  of  these 
religious  establishments  was  that  of  Durham,  to  which  were  transferred 

o 

the  sacred  bones  of  St.  Cuthbert,  esteemed  a  saint  especially  opposed  to  the 
Scots.  Not  contented  with  the  mere  conferring  of  the  ecclesiastical  dignity, 
the  king  erected  the  see  of  Durham  into  a  palatinate,  making  its  bishop  a 
count  palatine,  with  a  temporal  jurisdiction  second,  within  the  diocese,  only 
to  the  crown,  and  imposed  upon  the  prelate  all  the  military  obligations 
known  to  the  feudal  system.  The  vast  estate  thus  transferred  to  the  bishop 
of  Durham  was  by  him  re-allotted  among  his  followers,  all  of  whom,  it  is 
almost  needless  to  say,  were  of  Norman  blood,  or  of  the  same  political 
persuasion  as  their  immediate  lord  and  his  lord,  the  king.  From  these  vas 
sals  of  the  see  was  exacted  not  alone  the  money  tribute  necessary  to  fill  the 
coffers  and  sustain  the  state  of  the  soldier  bishops,  but  many  and  arduous 
warlike  duties,  and  the.  elevation  of  the  holy  banner  of  St.  Cuthbert  was  a 
signal  to  arms  that  none  in  all  the  vicinage  might  ignore. 

The  bishops,  from  the  first,  lived  in  state  little  less  than  royal.  The 
great  castle  that  was  at  once  the  episcopal  palace  and  the  fortress  of  the 
count  palatine  was  the  centre  of  a  court  scarcely  less  brilliant  than  that  of 
King  William,  and  the  gay  processions  that  moved  out  from  its  portals,  to 
the  battle  or  the  hunt,  suffered  small  loss  by  comparison  with  any  in  the 
land. 

Among  the  knights  who  accepted  estates  and  service  from  the  bishop 
of  Durham,  during  the  Twelfth  century,  was  William  de  Hertburn,  the  ear 
liest  ancestor  of  Washington,  of  whom  history  gives  us  any  trace.  He  was 
evidently  a  Norman  by  blood,  and  his  family  long  continued  to  bear  Nor- 


GENEALOGY.  5 

man  names  of  baptism.  The  surname,  De  Hertburn,  was  taken  from  the 
village  of  Hertburn — now^Hartburn — situated  upon  the  river  Tees,  and 
included  in  his  estate.  In  the  "Bolden  Book,"  a  record  of  all  the  lands 
possessed  by  the  diocese  of  Durham  in  1183,  is  found  the  first  mention 
of  De  Hertburn,  it  being  there  recorded,  in  barbarous  Latin,  that  the 
knight  had  exchanged  the  village  of  Hertburn  for  the  manor  and  village  of 
Wessyngton,  also  included  in  the  diocese. 

With  the  exchange  of  estates,  Sir  William  de  Hertburn  became  Sir 
William  de  Wessyngton,  still  a  vassal  of  the  bishop ;  still  an  attendant  at 
his  feasts  and  pageants ;  his  companion  in  the  hunt;  his  follower  in  the  graver 
game  of  war.  The  last  named  obligation  was  no  light  one,  as  the  gallant 
Sir  William,  and  many  a  long-haired,  bravely  armed,  and  proudly  mounted 
cavalier  of  the  De  Wessyngtons  after  him  found.  When  the  Scots  were 
not  engaged  in  some  bloody  foray  over  the  border,  the  king  and  bishops 
were  often  armed,  mounted,  and  pushing  northward  in  retaliation,  and  the 
times  were  neither  few  nor  far  between,  when  came  the  call  to  assist  in 
the  punishment  of  a  presumptuous  noble  or  baron,  within  the  shadow  of  the 
throne.  So  the  De  Wessyngtons  remained  among  the  preux  chevaliers  of 
the  crown,  residing  at  Wessyngton,  being  born,  marrying,  giving  in  marriage, 
dying; — fighting,  hawking,  carousing,  gaming, — no  doubt  conspiring,  after  the 
manner  of  their  kind, — for  more  than  two  hundred  years.  Then  one  called, 
as  the  free  and  liberal  spellers  of  the  day  have  it,  Sir  William  de  Wesching- 
ton,  procured  the  abrogation  of  the  strict  entail  of  the  estate,  and,  having 
fought  at  Ottcrbourne  against  the  Scotch  under  Sir  William  Douglas,  came 
home  to  his  castle  and  died,  and,  no  doubt,  having  received  absolution  from 
a  fat  chaplain,  joined  his  ancestors  beyond  the  jurisdiction  of  living  king 
or  bishop.  He  left  behind  him  no  son,  and,  his  daughters  marrying,  not 
Wessyngtons,  but  Temples  and  Blaykestones,  dwelt  at  the  old  castle,  and 
sat  in  the  councils  of  the  palatinate. 

Fortunately,  however,  there  were  collateral  branches  of  the  family,  and 
we  find  them  prominent  in  matters  of  church  and  state,  and  widely  scat 
tered  through  the  kingdom,  until,  before  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  cen 
tury,  Laurence  Washington,  head  of  that  branch  of  the  family  from  which 
came  the  American  offshoot,  was  born,  to  find  himself  heir  to  the  name, 
deprived  by  custom  of  the  prefix  dc,  and  evolved,  by  the  agency  of  genera 
tions  of  bad  spellers,  to  its  present  form.  This  Laurence  Washington,  of 
Warton,  in  Lancashire,  was  for  a  time  mayor  of  Northampton,  and,  in 
1538,  received  from  Henry  VIII.  the  grant  of  the  manor  of  Sulgrave,  in 
Northamptonshire,  with  an  extensive  estate  adjacent.  The  Washingtons 
seemed  to  profit  by  confiscation,  for  this  grant,  like  that  of  nearly  five 
centuries  before,  came  to  them  by  such  an  exercise  of  the  royal  prerogative. 
In  this  instance  the  sufferer  was  the  monastery  of  St.  Andrew's,  which 
shared  the  fate  of  dissolution  with  all  other  priories  of  the  kingdom.  This 


5  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

estate  was  the  property  of  the  Washington  family  up  to  1620.  Directly 
descended  from  Laurence  Washington  was  Sir  William  Washington,  of 
Packington,  in  the  county  of  Kent,  who  married  a  sister  of  George  Vil- 
liers,  Duke  of  Buckingham.  This  marriage  is  an  important  event  in  the 
history  of  the  family,  as  it  is  more  than  likely  that  it  determined  the  Wash- 
ingtons  in  their  allegiance  to  Charles  I.  and  the  royalist  party,  thus  prov 
ing,  indirectly,  the  cause  of  the  later  emigration  to  America. 

Lieutenant-colonel  James  Washington  fell,  while  fighting  in  the  cause  of 
Charles  I.,  at  the  siege  of  Pontefract  castle,  and  still  another,  Sir  Henry,  son 
and  heir  of  Sir  William,  distinguished  himself  by  a  stubborn  defense  of  the 
city  of  Worcester,  against  the  army  of  the  Protector,  continued  long  after 
the  king,  giving  up  his  cause  as  hopeless,  had  fled  to  the  parliamentary 
camp. 

During  the  rule  of  Cromwell,  England  was  neither  a  safe  nor  a  comfort 
able  residence  for  those  who  had  adhered  to  the  Stuart  cause,  and  it  may 
have  been  fear  of  suffering  by  the  severe  treatment  which  befell  all  sus 
pected  of  complicity  in  the  insurrection  of  1655,  that  led  John  and  Andrew 
Washington  to  emigrate  in  the  year  1657  to  Virginia,  the  favorite  refuge  of 
exiled  cavaliers.  The  two  were  brothers,  great-grandsons  of  Laurence 
Washington,  the  original  grantee  of  Sulgrave,  and  the  former  was  the  great 
grandfather  of  George  Washington.  The  brothers  purchased  lands  in  Vir 
ginia  upon  the  "Northern  neck,"  between  the  Potomac  and  Rappahannock 
rivers.  They  were  possessed  of  liberal  means,  and  their  purchases  were 
proportionately  large.  Both  were  men  of  education  and  refinement,  and 
were  at  once  recognized  as  such  by  their  neighbors,  their  homes  being 
among  the  gathering-places  of  the  expatriated  cavaliers  who  were  land 
owners  in  the  vicinity. 

This  sketch  has  only  to  do  with  John  Washington  and  his  descendants. 
He  shortly  married  Miss  Anne  Pope,  residing  in  the  vicinity,  and,  building 
him  a  home,  near  the  confluence  of  Bridge  creek  and  the  Potomac,  became 
in  turn,  an  extensive  planter,  a  magistrate,  and  a  member  of  the  State 
House  of  Burgesses.  He  was  also,  with  the  rank  of  colonel,  a  leader  of  the 
Virginia  militia,  against  the  Seneca  Indians,  who  were  then  upon  one  of 
their  periodical  warlike  expeditions  against  the  whites.  As  an  indication 
of  the  honor  in  which  he  was  held,  his  parish  was  called,  and  still  bears  the 
name  of  Washington,  anticipating,  by  more  than  a  century,  the  impress  that 
his  great-grandson  was  destined  to  make  upon  the  nomenclature  of 
the  country.  In  1696  his  grandson,  Augustine,  father  of  the  future  Presi 
dent,  was  born  upon  the  estate,  which  had  greatly  appreciated  in  value. 
When  but  nineteen  years  of  age,  he  married  Jane,  daughter  of  Caleb  Butler, 
a  leading  planter  of  Westmoreland,  county,  April  10,  1715.  By  this  mar 
riage  he  became  the  father  of  four  children,  of  whom  but  two,  Lawrence 
and  Augustine,  grew  to  manhood.  The  mother  died  November  24,  1728. 


GENEALOGY.  7 

The  grief  of  the  father  cannot  justly  be  judged  by  the  period  during 
which  he  remained  single,  which  continued  until  March  6,  1730.  He 
then  married  Mary,  daughter  of  Colonel  Ball.  This  lady  was  a  person 
of  exceptional  beauty,  wit,  and  culture,  and  has  been  described  as  "the 
belle  of  the  Northern  neck."  Be  that  as  it  may,  her  blood  and  breeding 
were  doubtless  of  the  best,  and  it  would  be  difficult  to  define,  as  it  is 
to  overestimate,  her  hereditary  and  personal  influence  in  forming  and  mold 
ing  her  first-born  child — George  Washington, — hence  her  proximate  influ 
ence  over  the  destinies  of  the  North  American  colonies  of  Great  Britain, 
and  the  great  Republic  of  which  they  were  the  basis.  Conjecture  is  lost  in 
considering  the  possible  results  had  she  borne  a  child  less  splendid  in 
natural  powers,  less  fine  in  his  appreciation  of  the  distinctions  between 
right  and  wrong,  less  disinterested  and  in  every  way  less  noble. 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 


CHAPTER  II. 

CHILDHOOD  AND    EDUCATION. 

EORGE  WASHINGTON  was  born  at  the  old  homestead  on  the  22d 
of  February,  1732,  the  eldest  of  seven  children  who  were  the  fruit 
of  this  second  marriage.  The  others  were,  in  the  order  of  their  ages, 
Samuel,  John,  Augustine,  Charles,  Elizabeth,  and  Mildred.  All  trace  of 
this  old  house  and  the  little  paradise  about  it  has  long  since  passed  away, 
but  Irving  says  that  the  spot  was,  many  years  after,  marked  as  the  birthplace 
of  Washington,  by  an  inscribed  stone,  placed  upon  the  site  of  the  dwelling 
by  George  W.  P.  Custis. 

A  rather  extended  statement  of  Washington's  family  antecedents  has 
been  made,  but  not  without  definite  reason.  While  it  is  well  reasoned 
that,  other  things  being  equal,  ability,  virtue,  and  honesty,  may  rather  be 
looked  for  from  that  man  who  is  the  descendant  of  generations  of  honest, 
virtuous,  and  able  men,  than  from  one  who  comes  from  an  inferior  and 
vicious  ancestry,  it  is  also  true  that  such  a  training  and  such  a  lineage  as 
Washington's,  tend  to  bring  forth  men  cautious  and  conventional  rather 
than  otherwise.  Such  are  more  likely  to  stand  with  established  authority 
than  to  oppose  it;  to  uphold  a  throne,  as  did  the  earlier  Washingtons  that 
of  Charles  Stuart,  than  to  assail  it ;  to  be  the  conservators  rather  than  the 
revolutionists  of  the  world. 

The  simple  fact  that  Washington  needed  to  go  but  two  generations 
back  to  find  his  ancestor  an  exile,  if  not  a  fugitive,  by  reason  of  loyalty  to 
the  throne,  must  have  had  great  weight  in  forming  his  mind.  The  further 
reflection  that  for  six  centuries  no  Washington  had  ever  proved  disloyal  to 
his  king — who  can  measure  its  force  when  presented,  as  it  doubtless  often 
was,  to  the  mind  of  a  thoughtful,  if  not  imaginative  boy?  If  ever  a  child 
had  the  antecedents  to  secure  him  from  the  possibility  of  being  either  a  Jac 
obin  or  a  demagogue,  it  was  George  Washington. 

So  much  for  blood.     So  far  as  training  and  association  are  concerned, 


CHILDHOOD    AND    EDUCATION.  g 

they  were  scarcely  more  promising  for  the  production  of  a  rebel  or,  as 
euphemists  will  have  it,  a  revolutionist.  As  has  been  said,  Virginia  was  a 
favorite  refuge  and  home  of  the  royalists,  who  fled  from  the  revenge  or  dis 
pleasure  of  the  Protector.  It  was,  so  far  as  the  sentiments  of  its  more  refined 
citizens  were  concerned,  a  community  of  cavaliers,  hating  Cromwell  and,  for 
a  century  after  him,  the  principles  of  religion  and  government  which  he 
represented,  or  was  supposed  to  have  represented ;  hating  the  roundhead  as 
a  personal  enemy,  and  regarding  the  principle  of  democracy  as  a  cover  for 
anarchy,  and  for  the  worst  of  tyranny. 

Washington's  father  and  half-brothers  were  rich  men,  and  the  wealthy 
planter  of  Virginia  kept  no  mean  state  in  those  days.  In  the  mode  of  life  of 
the  Washington  family,  and  that  of  their  neighbors,  as,  for  example,  the 
Fairfaxes,  many  coming  from  noble,  nearly  all  from  aristocratic,  families  in 
England,  there  was  everything  to  foster,  in  the  mind  of  the  child  and  young 
man,  a  respect — nay,  a  veneration, — for  so-called  divinely  instituted  authority, 
to  discourage  the  belief  that  he  would  ever  be  the  champion  of  a  weak  people 
in  a  struggle  with  its  established  rulers — a  struggle  which  the  world  should 
call  rebellion. 

As  this  biography  continues,  it  will  be  observed  that  Washington 
was  only  gradually, — indeed  very  gradually, — educated  to  the  point  of 
regarding  with  patience  even  that  measure  of  popular  freedom  that  colonial 
Virginia  knew;  he  was  an  aristocrat  by  tradition,  birth,  education,  and 
association.  Had  the  possibility  of  his  being  a  leader  in  a  revolt  against 
the  king  been  whispered  to  him,  when  he  first  espoused  the  royal  service, 
he  would  have  spurned  the  suggestion  as  an  insult  and  an  impossibility.  So 
much  the  more  wonderful  the  event. 

Soon  after  the  birth  of  George,  his  father  removed  to  a  point  in  Stafford 
county,  opposite  Fredericksburg,  where  he  built  him  a  second  house, 
similar  to  the  one  in  which  he  had  first  settled,  and  which,  like  its  prede 
cessor,  has  completely  passed  away.  This  was  the  home  of  George  in  all 
his  early  youth ;  about  it  were  gathered  those  associations  that  in  after  life 
came  up  to  him,  as  some  arise  before  every  man,  when  the  word  childhood  is 
mentioned.  His  early  education  was  in  no  way  distinguished  from  that  of 
other  boys  about  him;  he  attended  the  schools  of  the  neighborhood — formal 
in  method  and  dull  in  detail,  as  rural  schools  are  wont  to  be.  He  did  not 
learn  with  especial  readiness,  but  rather  with  especial  accuracy.  \Vhat  he 
had  once  mastered  never  escaped  him,  and  everything  that  he  acquired  in 
these  early  days  was  at  his  command  for  instant  use,  in  any  emergency, 
during  a  busy  and  eventful  life.  Day  by  day,  however  slow  his  progress 
in  formal  learning,  his  character  was  developing,  under  the  formative  care 
of  that  best  of  teachers — a  good  mother.  Possessed  naturally  of  a  dispo 
sition  especially  sensitive  to  good  influences,  her  training  made  his  sense  of 
honor,  truth,  and  justice,  in  boyhood  as  in  later  life,  acute  almost  to  the 


IO  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

point  of  morbidness.  Thus,  in  a  childhood,  singular  for  the  paucity  of  the 
details  which  have  survived,  and  for  its  general  uneventfulness,  we  find 
standing  out  and  constantly  quoted,  the  threadbare  story  of  the  cherry 
tree  and  the  hatchet,  which  has,  in  our  irreverent  day,  ceased  to  become  a 
moral  illustration  for  youth,  by  reason  of  the  ridicule  that  its  constant  rep 
etition  has  affixed  to  it.  It  was  no  great  triumph  of  veracity;  probably 
few  boys  would  have  possessed  such  enterprise  in  mischief  as  to  destroy 
the  tree;  probably  most  boys  in  his  place,  upon  being  taxed  with  the 
deed,  would  not  have  admitted  it.  To  repeat,  it  is  not  a  very  remarkable 
story,  but  for  one  quoted  while  Benjamin  Franklin  was  still  in  his  prime,  it 
is  a  very  good  indication  of  an  undoubted  fact,  that,  in  youth  as  in  man 
hood,  Washington  would  not  tell  a  lie. 

It  was  customary  among  the  more  wealthy  planters  of  Virginia  at  that 
early  day,  to  send  their  children  to  England  to  be  educated,  and,  while 
Washington  was  yet  a  young  child,  his  brother  Lawrence  left  his  home  for 
this  purpose,  being  then  a  boy  of  fifteen.  When  George  was  not  far  from 
seven  or  eight  years  of  age,  this  brother  returned  from  abroad,  not  only  a 
well  educated,  but  a  very  polished  and  elegant  young  gentleman  of  twenty- 
one  years.  He  had  been  so  fortunate  as  to  acquire  the  cultivation,  while 
he  avoided  the  vices  of  English  life,  and,  from  the  moment  of  his  home-com 
ing,  he  became  an  object  of  admiration,  almost  approaching  worship,  to  his 
younger  half-brother.  George  modeled  his  manners  and  habits  after  those 
of  Lawrence,  and  the  latter  was  doubtless  largely  influential  in  forming  his 
opinions  as  well.  He  could  have  found  no  better  model  at  that  time,  and 
the  warm  sympathy  and  friendship  that  survived  this  youthful  veneration, 
and  existed  between  the  two  for  many  years,  were  of  great  value  to  each. 

The  Washington  family  had  the  martial  spirit,  by  undoubted  right  of 
inheritance.  Very  soon  after  the  return  of  Lawrence  to  Virginia,  war  was 
declared  between  England  and  Spain,  as  a  result  of  naval  outrages  commit 
ted  by  the  latter  nation  upon  the  British  merchant  marine,  and  Lawrence 
Washington  became  a  captain  in  a  regiment,  raised  in  the  colonies  to 
cooperate  with  the  British  army  and  fleet  in  the  West  Indies.  With  the 
history  of  the  campaign  that  followed,  this  biography  is  not  concerned ;  it  is 
sufficient  to  say  that  Lawrence  gained  praise  and  distinction,  and  returned 
to  his  home,  intending,  after  a  brief  visit,  to  go  to  England  and  cast  his 
fortunes  with  his  army. 

The  result  of  Lawrence's  military  service  was  to  fire  George  with  martial 
enthusiasm ;  he  drilled  his  school-fellows  in  a  doubtless  very  original 
manual  of  arms  ;  led  them  in  parades,  reviews  and  mimic  battles,  and  fully 
determined,  as  has  many  a  boy  of  his  age,  that  only  the  trade  of  war  could 
satisfy  his  ambition. 

Lawrence  did  not  go  to  England ;  he  met  love  and  death,  two  unex 
pected  adversaries  that  most  men  sooner  or  later  encounter — which  com- 


CHILDHOOD    AND    EDUCATION.  I  I 

pelled  him  to  change  of  plan,  and  made  him  a  planter  and  a  Virginian  for 
life.  Meeting  Anna,  eldest  daughter  of  Hon.  William  Fairfax,  of  Fairfax 
county,  he  paid  his  addresses  to  her,  and,  being  favorably  received,  an 
engagement  followed.  The  marriage  was,  however,  delayed  by  the  sudden 
death  of  his  father,  which  occurred  April  12,  1743.  George  was  then  eleven 
years  of  age,  and  was,  with  the  other  children  of  the  second  marriage,  left 
under  the  safe  guardianship  of  his  mother.  The  ample  property  was  dis 
posed  of  by  will,  the  Potomac  estate  falling  to  the  share  of  Lawrence ; 
that  on  Bridge's  creek  to  Augustine ;  the  house  and  lands  upon  the  Rap- 
pahannock  being  reserved  for  George  when  he  should  reach  his  majority. 

George  had,  by  this  time,  exhausted  the  possibilities  of  the  elementary 
school,  which  he  had  before  attended,  and  was  taken  into  the  family  of  his 
brother  Lawrence,  that  he  might  have  the  benefit  of  a  better  one  that 
existed  in  that  neighborhood.  The  remainder  of  his  school  life  may  be 
dismissed  in  few  words.  It  seems  to  have  been  intended  that  he  should 
attain  a  thorough  and  practical  business  education — such  as  should  fit  him 
for  all  the  duties  of  an  extensive  colonial  land  owner  and  planter.  Perhaps 
the  possibility  of  his  becoming  a  magistrate  or  burgess  was  also  present,  as 
the  place  that  awaited  him  in  the  society  of  Virginia  was  such  as  to  warrant 
so  modest  an  ambition.  There  are  now  in  existence  several  of  his  school 
books,  into  one  of  which  are  copied,  with  infinite  pains,  forms  for  contracts, 
land  conveyances,  leases,  mortgages,  etc.  In  another  are  preserved  the 
field  notes  and  calculations  of  surveys,  which  he  made  as  a  matter  of  prac 
tice — kept  and  proved  with  the  same  exactness  that  would  have  been 
expected  had  the  result  been  intended  to  form  the  basis  of  practical  transac 
tions.  The  study  of  the  classics  and  belles-lettres  he  never  essayed. 
Throughout  these  school  days  Washington  pursued  his  labor  with  a  per 
sistence,  dignity,  and  gravity  out  of  keeping  with  his  years — and  which 
almost  justified  a  remark  similar  to  that  made  of  Louis  Philippe  by  Lamar- 
tine,  that  he  had  no  youth.  He  had  been  for  some  years  the  companion, 
on  terms  of  quasi-intellectual  equality,  of  older  men  than  himself,  and  we 
look  in  vain,  among  all  the  scattering  mementos  of  his  youth,  for  a  sparkle 
of  the  gayety  or  thoughtlessness  of  the  child. 

Still  he  was  not,  as  such  boys  are  so  likely  to  be,  a  prig,  or  simply  a 
book-worm.  He  cultivated  his  body,  with  the  same  quiet  assiduity  that  he 
gave  to  his  studies,  and  made  such  progress  in  muscular  power,  and  in  skill, 
that  he  was  the  master  of  his  fellows  in  athletic  sports,  as  well  as  in  the 
exercises  of  the  school-room.  Many  were,  no  doubt,  more  brilliant  than 
he,  at  that  time,  as  was  his  friend  and  protege,  Alexander  Hamilton,  in 
later  years,  but  none  were  more  sure  of  their  ground,  or  more  certain 
at  the  goal. 

Not  the  least  advantage  of  Washington's  sojourn  with  his  brother, 
was  the  fact  that  it  introduced  him,  at  once,  into  the  highest  and,  at  the 


12  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

same  time,  the  best  society  of  the  colony.  Lawrence  had  become  one  of 
the  most  honored  and  prominent  men  in  Virginia.  His  wealth,  his  social 
position  and  that  of  the  Fairfax  family,  his  sterling  character,  and  unques 
tioned  ability,  had  united  to  advance  him,  and  he  was  a  member  of  the 
House  of  Burgesses,  as  well  as  adjutant-general  of  his  district,  with  the 
rank  and  pay  of  a  major. 

But  a  few  miles  below  Mount  Vernon,  as  Lawrence  Washington  had 
called  his  estate,  and  upon  the  same  wooded  ridge  that  bordered  the  Poto 
mac,  was  Belvoir,  the  seat  of  the  Fairfax  family.  Occupying  the  ample  and 
elegantly  appointed  house,  was  the  Hon.  William  Fairfax,  father-in-law  of 
Lawrence  Washington — a  gentleman  who  had  attained  social,  political,  and 
military  prominence  in  England,  and  in  the  East  and  West  Indies.  He  had 
come  to  Virginia  to  take  charge  of  the  enormous  estate  of  his  cousin, 
Lord  Fairfax,  which,  according  to  the  original  grant  from  the  crown,  was 
"for  all  the  lands  between  the  Rappahannock  and  Potomac  rivers."  This 
grant  had  been  very  liberally  construed  to  include  a  large  part  of  the  land 
drained  by  affluents  of  these  streams,  embracing  a  considerable  portion  of 
the  Shenandoah  valley.  In  the  midst  of  this  princely  domain,  the  Fairfaxes 
lived  in  the  style  of  English  gentry.  Their  house  was  always  open  to  guests 
of  the  right  class,  and  to  no  others.  The  monotony  of  life  was  occasionally 
broken  by  the  arrival  in  the  Potomac  of  an  English  war  vessel,  when  its 
officers  were  certain  to  be  found  at  the  Fairfax  and  Washington  tables, 
telling  their  stories  of  service  in  distant  seas,  of  battle,  travel,  and  all  the 
various  experiences  that  a  naval  life  involves. 

George  was  made  a  sharer,  on  terms  nearly  approaching  equality,  in 
much  of  this  social  intercourse ;  he  felt  the  refining  and  broadening  influ 
ence  of  contact  with  accomplished  and  experienced  men  of  the  world,  and, 
not  least  important,  he  heard  the  tales  and  jests  of  the  seafaring  visitors, 
and  hearing,  was  enthralled.  At  the  age  of  fourteen  he  became  infatuated 
with  the  idea  of  entering  the  British  navy ;  his  age  was  suitable,  the  profes 
sion  was  an  excellent  one  for  a  young  gentleman  desiring  to  push  his  for 
tunes,  a  frigate  at  that  time  lay  in  the  river,  Lawrence  Washington  and 
Mr.  Fairfax  approved,  and  nothing  seemed  necessary  to  carrying  the 
plan  into  effect  but  the  _ consent  of  the  lad's  mother.  Even  this  diffi 
culty  yielded  to  argument.  George's  clothes  were  packed,  and  he  was 
ready  to  go  aboard,  when  the  mother's  heart  failed  her,  and  she  withdrew 
her  consent,  thus  saving  Washington  to  his  country.  It  is  more  likely, 
considering  his  training  and  disposition,  that,  had  the  boy  sailed  upon  that 
cruise,  he  would  have  directed  a  vessel  or  fleet  against  the  revolting  colo 
nies;  called  them  rebels,  not  patriots;  served  the  king,  not  the  people. 

Back  to  school  he  went,  no  doubt  chagrined  and  crestfallen,  and 
remained  for  nearly  two  years.  At  the  end  of  that  time  his  teacher  dis 
charged  him  as  finished,  as,  no  doubt,  he  was,  so  far  as  the  capacity  of  that 


CHILDHOOD    AND    EDUCATION.  13 

master  was  concerned.  These  two  years  were  passed  in  the  study  of  the 
higher  mathematics,  his  intention  being  to  fit  himself  for  any  business  or 
professional  emergency,  civil  or  military. 

After  leaving  school,  Washington  was  much  more  frequently  at  Belvoir 
than  before.  Lord  Fairfax,  the  owner  of  the  estate,  was  now  an  inmate  of 
the  house,  having  come  to  inspect  his  possessions,  and  determined  to  make 
Virginia  his  home.  He  was  much  impressed  by  the  fertility  and  beauty  of 
the  country,  and  also,  gossip  had  it,  having  never  recovered  from  a  wound 
to  his  heart  and  pride,  inflicted  in  his  youth  by  a  fickle  beauty,  who  pre 
ferred  a  ducal  coronet  to  his  more  modest  rank  after  the  wedding  dress  was 
made,  was  glad  to  escape  from  England  to  the  freedom  and  retirement  of 
Virginia.  Lord  Fairfax  was  not  far  from  sixty  years  of  age,  tall,  erect,  and 
vigorous  in  figure ;  kind-hearted,  generous  but  eccentric,  and  not  a  man  to 
take  every  comer  into  his  friendship  and  confidence.  He  at  once  showed 
a  marked  liking  for  the  tall,  handsome,  reserved  and  dignified  young  man, 
whom  he  so  often  met  at  Belvoir.  No  one  longer  regarded  Washington  as 
a  boy,  though  he  was  but  fifteen  years  of  age.  Lord  Fairfax  was  a  devoted 
sportsman,  and  set  up  his  hunters  and  hounds  at  Belvoir,  as  he  had  been 
accustomed  in  England.  Had  anything  been  necessary  to  confirm  his  friend 
ship  for  Washington,  it  was  only  to  find,  as  his  lordship  did,  that  the  latter 
was  as  hard  and  intrepid  a  rider  as  he,  and  would  follow  a  fox  over  the 
dangerous  and  difficult  hunting  grounds  of  Virginia  with  as  little  faltering 
or  fatigue. 

So  this  oddly  assorted  couple  became  close  friends  and  constant  com 
panions,  in  the  hunt  and  elsewhere.  The  old  nobleman,  litterateur,  and  man 
of  the  world,  treated  the  sturdy  young  man  as  a  social  and  intellectual  equal, 
and,  from  the  fullness  of  experience,  unconsciously  added,  day  by  day,  to 
his  slender  knowledge  of  the  world  ;  while  the  latter,  probably  quite  as 
unconsciously,  in  a  measure  repaid  the  debt,  as  his  knowledge  of  the  coun 
try  and  of  colonial  life  enabled  him  to  do.  One  important  effect  of  his 
intimacy  was  that  it  resulted  in  securing  to  Washington  his  first  oppor 
tunity  for  testing  his  new-found  freedom,  by  undertaking  an  independent 
enterprise.  This  happened  incidentally,  yet  was  the  starting-point  of  the 
young  man's  fortunes. 

As  has  been  said,  Lord  Fairfax's  estate  in  Virginia  extended  beyond 
the  Blue  Ridge,  and  to  a  considerable  distance  up  the  eastern  slope  of  the 
Alleghanies.  West  of  the  former  range  no  survey  had  ever  been  made, 
and  reports  had  come  that  the  country  was  filling  up  with  lawless  squatters, 
who  invariably  selected  the  best  lands  for  settlement,  and  were  in  danger  of 
gaining  such  a  foothold  that,  to  oust  them,  would  be  a  matter  of  no  little 
difficulty.  Lord  Fairfax  desired  a  survey  of  this  wild  and  uncivilized  terri 
tory  to  be  made.  It  was  a  service  requiring  not  only  skill  as  a  surveyor, 
but  ability  to  endure  great  fatigue,  courage  to  face  danger,  determination 


14  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

and  ingenuity  to  meet  and  overcome  difficulties — yet  all  these  qualities  he 
deemed  combined  in  Washington,  who  had  barely  reached  the  age  of  six 
teen  years.  The  committing  of  so  important  a  trust  to  one  so  young, 
seems  almost  inconceivable,  and  this  fact  is  one  of  the  best  indications  of 
what  the  youth  must  have  been,  not  only  in  bone  and  muscle,  but  in  brain, 
self-reliance,  and  maturity,  at  an  age  when  most  boys  are  thinking  more  of 
their  balls  and  kites  than  of  the  serious  duties  of  life. 

Washington  eagerly  accepted  the  proposal  of  Lord  Fairfax,  and  imme 
diately  set  about  his  preparations  for  departure,  which  occupied  but  a  few 
days.  In  company  with  George  William  Fairfax,  a  young  man  of  twenty- 
two  years,  son  of  William  Fairfax,  he  set  out  in  the  saddle,  during  the 
month  of  March,  1748.  Mr.  John  S.  C.  Abbott,  in  his  Life  of  Washing 
ton,  describes  the  experience  of  the  young  men  in  a  manner  character 
istically  picturesque.  He  says: 

"The  crests  of  the  mountains  were  still  whitened  with  ice  and  snow. 
Chilling  blasts  swept  the  plains.  The  streams  were  swollen  into  torrents  by 
the  spring  rains.  The  Indians,  however,  whose  hunting  parties  ranged 
these  forests,  were  at  that  time  friendly.  Still  there  were  vagrant  bands 

wandering  here  and  there,  ever  ready  to  kill  and  plunder 

Though  these  wilds  may  be  called  pathless,  still  there  were,  here  and  there, 
narrow  trails  which  the  moccasined  foot  of  the  savage  had  trodden  for 
uncounted  centuries.  They  led,  in  a  narrow  track,  scarcely  two  feet  in 
breadth,  through  dense  thickets,  over  craggy  hills,  and  along  the  banks  of 

placid  streams  or  foaming  torrents It  was  generally  necessary 

to  camp  at  night  wherever  darkness  might  overtake  them.  With  their  axes 
a  rude  cabin  was  easily  constructed,  roofed  with  bark,  which  afforded  a  com 
fortable  shelter  from  wind  and  rain.  The  forest  presented  an  ample  sup 
ply  of  game.  Delicious  brook  trout  were  easily  taken  from  the  streams. 
Exercise  and  fresh  air  gave  appetite.  With  a  roaring  fire  crackling  before 
the  camp,  illumining  the  forest  far  and  wide,  the  adventurers  cooked  their 
supper  and  ate  it  with  a  relish  such  as  the  pampered  guests  in  lordly  ban 
queting  halls  have  seldom  experienced.  Their  sleep  was  probably  more 
sweet  than  was  ever  found  on  beds  of  down.  Occasionally  they  would  find 
shelter  for  the  night  in  the  wigwam  of  the  friendly  Indian." 

In  amusing  contrast  to  this  rose-colored  view  of  life  in  the  woods,  are 
the  terse  and  evidently  feeling  words,  from  the  pen  of  Washington  him 
self,  recorded  in  his  journal  under  date  of  March  15,  1748:  "Worked  hard 
till  night  and  then  returned.  After  supper  we  were  lighted  into  a  room,  and 
I,  being  not  so  good  a  woodman  as  the  rest,  stripped  myself  very  orderly 
and  went  into  the  bed,  as  they  call  it,  when,  to  my  surprise,  I  found  it  to 
be  nothing  but  a  little  straw  matted  together,  without  sheet  or  anything  else, 
but  only  one  threadbare  blanket,  with  double  its  weight  of  vermin.  I  was 
glad  to  get  up  and  put  on  my  clothes  and  lie  as  my  companions  did.  Had 


^^•^v^ll    V 

>Vr'"^^y 


CHILDHOOD    AND   EDUCATION.  Ij 

we  not  been  very  tired,  I  am  sure  we  should  not  have  slept  much  that  night. 
I  made  a  promise  to  sleep  no  more  in  a  bed,  choosing  rather  to  sleep  in  the 
open  air  before  a  fire."  Again,  after  being  much  longer  away  from  home, 
Washington  says  in  a  letter  to  a  friend:  "Yours  gave  me  the  more  pleas 
ure  as  I  received  it  among  barbarians  and  an  uncouth  set  of  people.  Since 
you  received  my  letter  of  October  last,  I  have  not  slept  above  three  or  four 
nights  in  a  bed.  But  after  walking  a  good  deal  all  the  day,  I  have  lain  down 
before  the  fire  on  a  little  hay,  straw,  fodder,  or  bear  skin,  whichever  was 
to  be  had,  with  man,  wife,  and  children,  like  dogs  and  cats,  and  happy  is  he 
who  gets  nearest  the  fire.  I  have  never  had  my  clothes  off,  but  have  lain 
and  slept  in  them,  except  the  few  nights  I  have  been  in  Fredericksburg. " 

With  these  and  similar  experiences,  Washington  and  his  companion,  with 
their  little  party,  consisting  of  an  Indian  guide  and  a  few  white  attendants, 
continued  through  the  weary  weeks  and  months  occupied  in  the  fulfillment 
of  their  mission.  This  work  was  well  and  thoroughly  done  ;  the  surveys 
made  were  afterwards  proved  to  be  careful  and  accurate.  The  party  finally 
returned  to  civilization  on  the  I2th  day  of  April,  1749,  more  than  a  year 
after  they  set  out.  The  report  made  to  Lord  Fairfax  proved  a  source  of 
immediate  profit  to  Washington,  who,  though  but  a  little  more  than  seven 
teen  years  of  age,  was  soon  after  made  one  of  the  official  surveyors  of  the 
colony  of  Virginia.  His  late  employer  soon  removed  to  a  point  in  the 
newly  surveyed  territory,  beyond  the  Blue  Ridge,  where  he  set  aside  ten 
thousand  acres  of  land,  to  constitute  his  home  estate,  and  projected  a 
grand  manor  and  house,  after  the  Knglish  style.  The  proposed  site  of 
this  dwelling,  which,  though  Abbott  describes  it  in  glowing  terms,  was 
never  built,  is  about  twelve  miles  from  the  present  village  of  Winchester. 

Washington  pursued  his  labors  with  the  additional  sanction  given  by 
his  office,  which  entitled  his  surveys  to  become  a  matter  of  official  record. 
As  will  be  readily  understood,  the  demand  for  such  services  in  a  new  coun 
try  was  great,  and,  as  the  number  of  competent  men  was  small,  his  labors 
commanded  a  correspondingly  large  remuneration.  So  for  three  years  he 
continued,  patiently  working;  his  ability  and  industry  commanding  respect 
and  gaining  a  daily  wider  recognition.  He  was  so  accurate  in  all 
his  processes  that  no  considerable  error  was  ever  charged  against  him, 
and  a  title,  finding  its  basis  in  one  of  his  surveys,  was  rarely  disputed. 
The  minute  acquaintance  with  the  soil,  timber,  and  other  natural  advan 
tages  of  the  region,  thus  obtained,  proved  of  great  practical  value  to  him  in 
after  years,  when  his  increased  wealth  needed  investment;  much  of  the 
finest  land  which  he  surveyed  passed  into  his  hands,  and  was  later  owned  by 
members  of  the  Washington  family.  He  held  his  office  of  colonial  sur 
veyor  for  three  years,  when  he  resigned  it  to  accept  more  important  trusts. 


GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  CAUSES  OF  THE  FRENCH  WAR. 

WHILE  it  is  the  intention  to  restrict  this  work,  so  far  as  possible, 
to  the  simple  record  of  Washington's  life,  it  is  impossible  that 
such  a  biography  should  be  adequately  written  or  fairly  understood, 
unless  collateral  matters  are  to  a  degree  explained.  Washington  had, 
at  the  age  of  nineteen  years,  reached  the  time  when  it  was  fated  that  he 
should  put  aside  his  own  interests,  turn  his  back  upon  home  and  friends 
and,  in  the  service  of  the  colony  and  the  crown,  take  his  first  hard  object- 
lessons  in  diplomacy  and  war.  That  the  circumstances  may  be  under 
stood,  and  just  conclusions  attained,  it  is  necessary  to  give  a  cursory  view 
of  the  circumstances  that  led  to  the  complications  of  the  time,  and  to  the 
ensuing  war  between  France  and  England,  for  supremacy  in  America. 

The  fundamental  differences  arose  thus  :  John  Cabot,  in  1497,  crossed 
the  Atlantic,  and  discovered  the  coast  of  Labrador.  This  result  was  enough 
to  satisfy  his  immediate  ambition,  and  he  went  back  to  England,  leaving  it  for 
his  son,  Sebastian,  who  had  been  his  companion,  to  return,  during  the 
ensuing  year,  and  pursue  the  exploration.  Sebastian  sailed  the  same 
course,  and,  reaching  Labrador,  turned  southward  and  skirted  the  continent, 
keeping  the  coast  always  in  sight,  as  far  as  the  latitude  of  Hatteras,  when, 
provisions  falling  short,  he,  in  turn,  sailed  back  to  England.  By  virtue  of 
this  cruise,  England  claimed  the  entire  unknown  breadth  of  the  North 
American  continent,  between  the  parallels  of  latitude  bounding  Cabot's 
coastwise  exploration.  Many  colonial  and  personal  grants  of  territory  were 
made  upon  this  basis — that  of  Virginia,  for  example,  being  defined  north 
and  south  by  its  coast  line,  and  east  and  west  limited  only  by  the  extent  of 
the  land.  As  an  instance  of  combined  ignorance  and  prodigality,  it  is  also 
interesting  to  note  that  King  Charles  I.,  in  the  fifth  year  of  his  reign, 
granted  to  "his  loyal  servant,  Sir  Charles  Heath,"  all  that  part  of  North 
America  bounded  by  the  thirty-first  and  thirty-sixth  degrees  of  north  lati 


THE  CAUSES  OF  THE  FRENCH  WAR.  \J 

tude,  and  extending  the  entire  width  of  the  continent.  Truly  a  very  liberal 
gift! 

The  French,  on  the  other  hand,  discovered  the  mouth  of  the  St.  Law 
rence  in  1508  ;  in  1525  took  formal  possession  of  the  country,  and,  between 
that  time  and  1671,  pushed  their  explorations  and  claims  of  discovery 
through  the  entire  chain  of  lakes,  building  forts,  establishing  trading  posts, 
and  founding  missions  as  far  as  Lake  Superior.  In  1673  Pere  Marquette 
and  his  companions  discovered  the  Mississippi ;  in  1680  Pere  Hennepin  fol 
lowed  the  great  river  to  its  source,  and  in  1681  La  Salle  made  his  wonderful 
canoe  voyage  down  the  river  to  its  mouth.  De  Soto,  the  Spanish  adven 
turer,  in  1541,  discovered  the  Mississippi,  near  its  mouth,  but  did  not 
extend  his  exploration.  By  right  of  these  various  discoveries  the  French 
claimed  the  St.  Lawrence  and  the  Mississippi,  together  with  the  entire 
region  drained  by  either  of  the  great  rivers.  The  immense  extent  of  the 
territory  involved  in  this  claim  will  at  once  be  appreciated.  It  includes 
the  great  central  basin  of  the  United  States,  extending  from  the  Rocky 
mountains  to  the  Alleghanics,  and  from  the  lakes  to  the  head  waters  of 
the  gulf  rivers,  the  entire  Mississippi  valley,  the  northern  slope  of  the 
watershed  of  New  York  and  New  England,  as  well  as  the  southern  slope  of 
the  vast  territory  north  of  the  St.  Lawrence  and  the  lakes. 

The  first  clash  directly  arising  from  this  conflict  of  domain  was  when, 
in  1699,  D'Iberville  entered  the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi,  with  two  French 
war  vessels,  and  encountered  an  English  exploring  ship.  The  latter  was 
.ordered  to  depart  forthwith  and,  compelled  by  the  superior  force  of  the 
French,  its  captain  withdrew,  having  first  entered  a  formal  protest. 

The  claims  of  England  and  France  remained  in  abeyance  so  long  as  the 
colonies  of  each  were  in  their  infancy.  Circumstances  had  led  to  the  establish 
ment  of  the  English  settlements  upon  the  eastern  sea  coast,  from  Massa 
chusetts  to  South  Carolina,  in  territory  indisputably  English  by  right.  The 
French  colonies  extended  from  Quebec  to  Superior,  along  the  lakes.  They 
were  not  immediately  in  the  way  of  England's  ambition,  and  she  was  too 
busy  in  assuring  the  doubtful  fortunes  of  her  own  settlements,  and  with  the 
critical  condition  of  affairs  at  home,  to  notice  encroachments  upon  Lake 
Champlain,  and  at  other  points,  within  the  territory  more  nearly  in  her 
path.  There  was  so  vast  a  territory,  and  so  great  opportunity  for  trade, 
in  proportion  to  the  scattered  population,  that,  until  well  toward  the  middle 
of  the  eighteenth  century,  the  disputed  claims  were  of  little  immediate 
moment.  So  the  French  continued  to  exchange  cheap  guns  and  knives  for 
fine  furs,  in  the  North  and  Northwest — the  English  to  receive  fine  furs  for 
cheap  knives  and  guns  in  the  East  ;  the  English  to  build  their  comfortable, 
wide-doored  houses  in  Virginia — the  French  to  teach  the  Lake  Superior 
Indians  to  pray  to,  and,  it  is  to  be  feared,  to  swear  by,  every  saint  in  the 
calendar. 


1 8  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

By  the  year  1750,  however,  there  were  well  towards  three  millions  of 
English  upon  the  coast,  while  the  French,  though  weaker  in  numbers,  were 
pushing  their  enterprises  far  to  the  southward.  There  is  no  question  that 
the  French  showed  a  shrewdness  far  greater  than  that  of  the  English. 
Wherever  their  traders  went,  permanent  trading  posts  were  established,  and 
every  post,  despite  its  harmless  name,  was,  in  fact,  a  fort,  surrounded  by 
palisades,  pierced  with  loop-holes  and  impregnable  to  an  ordinary  attack. 
Cannon  frowned  from  the  walls  of  many,  and  thus,  under  the  specious  pre 
text  of  protection  against  the  Indians,  the  French  had  guarded  and  secured 
every  step  in  advance,  even  to  the  valley  of  La  Belle  Riviere,  as  they  had 
re-christened  the  Ohio. 

The  traders  of  the  French  and  English  colonies  were  beginning  to 
meet  upon  the  debatable  ground  west  of  the  Alleghanies,  and  as  they  were, 
for  the  most  part,  rude  and  lawless  men,  feeling  ran  high  between  them, 
and  personal  encounters  were  not  infrequent.  It  became  the  desire  of  the 
Virginia  colony  to  gain  a  foothold  in  this  fertile  territory,  and,  using  the 
settlements  as  a  base  of  operations,  to  win  control  of  the  trade  which  they 
deemed  to  be  theirs  as  a  matter  of  right.  Hence,  some  of  the  foremost 
men  of  the  region,  among  whom  were  Lawrence  and  Augustine  Washing 
ton,  organized,  in  the  year  1749,  a  colonization  company,  and  obtained  for 
it  a  charter  in  the  name  of  the  Ohio  company,  and  a  grant  from  the  crown 
of  five  hundred  thousand  acres  of  land,  west  of  the  Alleghany  mountains, 
and  between  the  Monongahela  and  Kanawha  rivers,  with  the  right,  if 
deemed  wise,  to  take  up  a  portion  of  the  land  north  of  the  Ohio.  The 
only  conditions  attached  to  the  grant  were  that  the  company  should  set 
apart  two-fifths  of  its  land,  settle  one  hundred  families  upon  it  within  seven 
years,  and  build,  equip,  garrison,  and  maintain  a  fort,  at  its  own  expense, 
"for  defense  against  the  Indians."  This  explanatory  clause  is  a  little  amus 
ing,  when  it  is  considered  that  the  ease  with  which  the  valuable  grant  and 
franchise  were  obtained,  was  accounted  for  by  the  fact  that  the  Government 
was  glad  to  substantially  encourage  any  movement  which  might  check  the 
serious  encroachments  of  the  French. 

In  the  course  of  the  same  year  the  Governor  of  Canada,  doubtless 
apprised  of  the  plan  of  the  Virginians,  sent  Celeron  de  Bienville,  with  a 
force  of  three  hundred  men,  on  a  mission,  having,  for  its  alleged  object,  the 
making  of  peace  among  the  warring  Indian  tribes  upon  the  Ohio.  Perhaps 
the  industrious  and  effective  talking  which  he  did  with  the  chiefs,  in  the 
effort  to  prevail  upon  them  to  cease  trading  with  the  English,  and  his  liberal 
distribution  of  gifts,  were  only  incidental,  but  the  fact  that  the  envoy  nailed 
to  trees  and  buried  in  the  earth  metallic  plates,  bearing  inscribed  upon  them 
a  statement  of  the  French  claim  to  the  Ohio  valley,  gives  the  affair  an 
appearance  of  deliberation,  and  lays  the  noble  Governor  open  to  the  charge 
of  a  disingenuousness,  such  as  neither  party  hesitated  to  profit  by. 


THE  CAUSES  OF  THE  FRENCH  WAR.  1^ 

The  Ohio  company  had  already  imported  goods  suitable  for  its  antici 
pated  trade,  prepared  for  sending  out  a  colony,  and  offered  liberal  rewards 
to  the  discoverer  of  the  best  and  safest  road  over  the  mountains,  when  came 
word  of  the  visit  of  De  Bienville  and  his  open  claim  of  French  sovereignty. 
By  this  time  Lawrence  Washington  was  at  the  head  of  the  Ohio  company, 
and  he  at  once  determined  upon  taking  prompt  and  decisive  steps.  The 
unwelcome  news  from  the  Ohio  was  tempered,  to  a  degree,  by  the  statement 
that  DC  Bienville  had  overreached  himself  in  posting  his  warning  to  tres 
passers.  The  Indians  had  become  suspicious  of  an  intention,  on  the  part  of 
the  French,  to  seize  their  lands,  and  sent  a  messenger  assuring  the  English 
of  their  unchanged  friendship,  accompanying  the  same  with  three  strings  of 
wampum  as  tokens  of  amity. 

These  movements  on  the  part  of  the  French  were  sufficient  to  arouse 
the  colony  of  Virginia  to  the  highest  pitch  of  excitement  and  activity. 
The  Governor  dispatched  a  messenger,  in  the  person  of  Christopher  Gist, 
a  hardy  pioneer,  to  explore  the  lands  of  the  Ohio  company,  with  a  view  to 
ascertaining  the  fitness  of  various  sections  for  cultivation  ;  also  to  recon 
noitre  with  a  view  to  discovering  the  points  be  suited  for  the  establish 
ment  of  trading  posts  and  forts  ;  to  conciliate  the  Indians  by  means  of  gifts, 
so  that  their  assistance  or  neutrality  might  be  relied  upon,  and  to  return  with 
all  speed  with  his  report.  After  crossing  the  mountains,  Gist  fell  in  with 
George  Croghan,  bound  upon  a  somewhat  similar  embassy  from  the  Governor 
of  Pennsylvania,  and  the  two  proceeded  together,  penetrating  as  far  as  the 
Indian  village  of  Piqua,  upon  the  site  of  the  present  town  of  that  name. 
Their  mission  was,  in  the  main,  successful.  They  gained  the  ear  of  the 
Miami  Indians,  just  before  the  arrival  of  a  deputation  of  Ottawas,  who 
came  bearing  overtures  from  the  French.  These  were  repulsed,  their  gifts 
of  brandy  and  tobacco — dear  to  the  Indian  heart — refused,  and  their 
wampum  speech  belts  returned.  The  latter  act  is  symbolical  of  breaking 
off  friendly  relations,  and  finds  its  equivalent,  in  civilized  diplomacy,  in  the 
recall  of  ministers.  The  chiefs  of  most  of  the  tribes  agreed  to  attend  a 
council  with  Pennsylvania,  at  Logtown,  an  important  Indian  village  on 
the  Ohio,  and  Gist  made  the  arduous  and  perilous  journey  homeward, 
arriving  upon  the  outskirts  of  the  settlements  in  May,  1750,  having  been 
engaged  for  more  than  six  months.  In  the  meantime  the  discomfited 
Ottawas'  had  returned  from  Piqua  to  Fort  Sandusky,  and  the  French, 
desiring  at  all  hazards  to  prevent  or  render  ineffective  the  Logtown  council, 
sent  one  Captain  Joncaire,  a  veteran  in  Indian  diplomacy,  to  attend. 
This  Joncaire  did,  but  all  his  eloquence  and  gifts  failed  to  move  the  Indians, 
and  he  returned  to  those  who  sent  him  with  a  most  unsatisfactory  report. 

The  war  spirit  was  now  thoroughly  aroused  on  each  side.  The  French 
built  and  armed  a  large  vessel  of  war,  for  service  on  Lake  Ontario,  fell  to 
strengthening  their  posts  upon  the  frontier,  and  to  building  new  defenses  in 


2O  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

the  Ohio  valley.  On  the  part  of  the  colonies  the  preparations  were  not  so 
radical,  nor  so  wisely  directed,  but  they  were  sufficiently  active.  They 
lacked  the  system  and  unity  that  was  easy  for  the  French  to  attain,  but 
almost  an  impossibility  with  isolated,  independent,  and  not  entirely  har 
monious  settlements.  In  Virginia  activity  was  at  its  height,  and  the  colony 
was  divided  into  districts,  each  having  an  adjutant-general,  with  the  rank  and 
pay  of  a  major,  whose  duty  it  was  to  superintend  the  recruiting,  equip 
ment,  and  drill  of  troops.  To  one  of  these  places  Washington,  though  but 
nineteen  years  of  age,  was  appointed,  at  the  solicitation  of  his  brother 
Lawrence.  He  at  once  entered  upon  the  discharge  of  his  duties  with  the 
energy  and  determination  that  marked  him  in  every  enterprise.  Two  of 
Lawrence's  companions  in  his  Spanish  campaign,  Adjutant  Muse  and  Ja 
cob  VanBraam,  were  employed  as  his  instructors — the  former  in  the 
manual  of  arms  and  tactics ;  the  latter  in  fencing  and  general  sword  exer 
cise.  Thus  the  quiet  country  house  at  Mt.  Vernon,  became  a  salle  <£ 
armes  and  rang  with  noisy  exercise  from  morning  until  night,  as  one  or 
other  of  the  professors  of  the  art  of  war  coached  his  pupil  for  the  expected 
service. 

Washington's  study  and  service  were  soon  sadly  interrupted  by  the  ill 
ness  of  his  favorite  brother,  who  was  advised  to  spend  the  approaching 
winter  in  a  warmer  climate,  as  the  only  possibility  of  saving  his  life.  Con 
sequently  the  two  went  together  to  Barbadoes  whence,  after  remaining  some 
time,  Lawrence  determined  to  remove  and  spend  the  remainder  of  the  winter 
and  the  spring  at  Bermuda,  and  George  returned  to  Virginia  to  escort  the 
sick  man's  wife  to  his  side.  The  determination  that  Mrs.  Washington 
should  attempt  the  journey  was,  however,  altered.  Lawrence  remained  at 
Bermuda  until  summer,  when  he  returned  to  Mt.  Vernon,  only  to  die  on  the 
26th  day  of  July,  1752.  He  left  a  very  large  estate  to  an  infant  daughter, 
with  the  provision  that,  if  she  should  die  without  issue,  it  was  to  belong  to 
his  widow  for  life  and  then  pass  to  George.  The  latter  was  made  one  of  the 
executors,  and  from  that  time,  the  charge  of  his  brother's  estate  was  added 
to  his  responsibilities.  Heavy  as  was  this  olow  to  Washington,  matters  of 
grave  importance  forbade  that  he  should  indulge  his  grief.  He  was  soon 
re-appointed  adjutant-general  and  assigned  to  the  northern  and  most  impor 
tant  district  of  the  colony.  The  duties  of  the  place  engrossed  him,  until  still 
graver  responsibilities  were  placed  upon  his  shoulders. 

A  great  council  between  the  mixed  tribes,  that  had  emigrated  from  the 
northeast  and  settled  in  the  Ohio  valley,  and  the  representatives  of  Vir 
ginia,  had  concluded  an  alliance  between  the  people  of  that  colony  and  the 
majority  of  the  Indians  of  the  region.  Of  the  important  chiefs,  only  the 
sachem  of  the  Six  Nations  was  absent.  The  principal  chief  of  the  mixed 
tribes,  Tanacharisson,  generally  termed  the  Half  King  by  reason  of  his  sub 
ordination  to  the  Iroquois  confederacy,  was,  as  he  had  been  from  the  first  and 


THE  CAUSES  OF  THE  FRENCH  WAR 


21 


always  continued,  faithful  to  the  English.  The  Indians  were  very  indignant 
at  the  advances  made  by  the  French  in  their  territory,  and  the  English,  on 
their  side,  were  filled  with  apprehension  for  the  safety  of  their  settlements, 
which  had  been  made  under  the  inducements  held  out  by  the  Ohio  company. 
The  French  had  given  notice  that  all  English  found  trading  west  of  the 
Alleghanies  would  be  made  prisoners,  and  their  goods  confiscated ;  and 
these  threats  had  been  carried  into  effect  in  several  instances.  Hence  the 
Half  King  went  to  the  post  at  Sandusky  and  made  a  personal  protest 
against  the  advances  of  the  French,  and  a  demand  for  the  removal  of  their 
troops  and  posts  from  his  territories.  His  protest  and  he  himself  were 
received  with  the  utmost  contempt,  and  he  was  dismissed  to  his  home,  very 
angry  and  much  humiliated,  carrying  with  him  the  wampum  speech  belt 
which  had  been  the  symbol  of  his  amity  with  the  French.  The  English  had 
now  apparently  no  recourse  but  force.  The  French  were  evidently  making 
an  effort  to  connect  the  gulf  and  the  lakes  by  a  chain  of  posts,  to  set  up 
defenses  at  all  strategic  points  in  the  valley,  and  thus,  while  so  much  time 
was  being  wasted  in  idle  diplomacy,  to  establish  themselves  beyond  the  dan 
ger  of  being  ousted. 


KEDOl'UT    AT    PITTSWUKG1I,    BUILT    IN    1764. 


22  GEORGE   WASHINGTON 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  EXPEDITION  TO  FRENCH  CREEK. 

YET  one  more  effort  was  made  to  come  to  a  pacific  settlement.  A  mes 
senger,  Captain  Trent,  was  sent  to  the  French  commander  in  the  val 
ley,  to  demand  the  withdrawal  of  his  forces  and  traders  from  the  terri 
tory  of  the  king  of  England.  Trent  proved  a  coward  and,  finding  that  the 
French  had  already  begun  active  operations,  by  an  attack  upon  the  friendly 
Indians  at  Piqua,  returned  to  Virginia  without  having  even  made  an  attempt 
to  fulfill  his  mission.  This  placed  the  Governor  and  the  Ohio  company  in  a 
quandary.  For  a  long  time  no  one  could  be  found,  willing  to  undertake  the 
hazardous  task  of  fulfilling  Trent's  abandoned  mission.  At  last  Washing 
ton  volunteered  and  his  services  were  eagerly  accepted.  He  received 
his  credentials  on  the  3Oth  day  of  October,  1753,  and  set  off  on  the  same 
day  upon  his  toilsome  and  dangerous  expedition.  According  to  his  instruc 
tions  he  was  to  proceed  first  to  Logtown,  confer  with  the  Half  King  and 
other  friendly  chiefs,  then  push  his  way  with  all  despatch,  accompanied  by 
such  escort  of  Indians  as  he  could  obtain,  to  the  headquarters  of  the  French 
commandant,  deliver  his  written  communication,  receive  an  answer,  if  one 
were  furnished  within  a  week,  then  make  the  best  of  his  way  homeward. 
He  was  also  charged  to  make  every  observation  and  inquiry  possible  with 
out  exciting  suspicion,  directed  to  ascertaining  the  force  of  the  French,  the 
number  and  situation  of  their  posts,  and  the  facilities  which  they  might 
possess  for  a  movement,  by  land  or  water,  upon  the  English  frontiers. 
This  was  no  light  charge  for  a  man  experienced  in  affairs  of  the  kind  ; 
for  one  of  but  twenty-two  years,  and  utterly  without  such  experience,  it 
seems  almost  absurd. 

Washington  proceeded  at  once  to  Logtown ;  the  chiefs  expressed 
themselves  as  devoted  to  the  cause  of  their  " English  brothers,"  said  they 
would  accompany  him  and  return  all  speech  belts  to  the  French,  and  give 
him  all  the  assistance  in  their  power.  He  was,  after  the  fashion  of 


THE  EXPEDITION  TO  FRENCH  CREEK.  23 

young  men,  impatient  to  take  them  at  their  word  and  proceed  at  once, 
but  he  soon  found  that  he  was  in  danger  of  offending  the  ideas  of  the  most 
dignified  and  punctilious  diplomatists  in  the  world.  Hence,  chafing  with 
inward  impatience,  he  was  fain  to  bide  his  time  during  the  three  days  con 
sumed  by  his  allies,  in  discussing  the  expedition,  collecting  their  important 
belts,  and  making  preparation.  At  last,  much  to  his  relief,  they  announced 
their  readiness  to  proceed,  but  also  said  they  had  decided  that  but 
three  of  their  number  and  a  hunter  should  accompany  him,  as  a  greater 
escort  would  be  likely  to  excite  suspicion.  There  was  probably  more  reason 
for  this  temporizing  than  the  mere  desire  to  conduct  affairs  of  state  in  a 
decent  and  orderly  manner.  The  situation  of  the  Indian  tribes  of  the  Ohio 
valley  was  critical  in  the  extreme,  and  they  were  the  first  to  recognize  the 
fact.  They  were  hemmed  in  on  either  side  by  civilizations  foreign  to 
their  traditions,  and  which  they  could  but  recognize  as  superior  to  their 
own  rude  devices  of  war.  These  two  alien  forces  were  in  antagonism  with 
each  other,  and  for  what?  Even  an  Indian  could  discern  that  the  wooded 
hills,  the  rich  plains  and  the  broad  streams  of  the  central  valley,  formed  the 
object  of  the  strife.  It  is  not  improbable  that  the  wisest  of  them  recog 
nized  the  uselcssness  of  armed  struggle  against  the  white  invader.  At  all 
events  they  felt  the  danger  which  threatened  their  race;  they  saw  impend 
ing  a  struggle,  of  which  their  possessions  were  to  be  the  scene,  into  which 
they  must  almost  inevitably  be  drawn,  and  which  was  likely  to  result  in  the 
expulsion  of  one  or  the  other  contestant  from  the  land. 

It  did  not  require  the  perspicuity  of  a  Talleyrand,  to  see  that,  under  such 
circumstances,  the  question  of  alliance  was  a  very  important  one;  if  made 
with  the  victors,  it  promised  the  Indians,  for  the  time  being  at  least,  security 
in  their  homes  and  lands;  if,  on  the  other  hand,  they  should  range  themselves 
with  the  losing  side,  there  seemed  nothing  before  them  but  spoliation,  exile 
and  death.  What  did  they  care  for  French  or  English?  One  was  the  upper, 
the  other  the  nether  millstone  ;  their  people,  like  grains  of  wheat,  were  fall 
ing  between  the  two,  to  be  mercilessly  crushed  and  destroyed.  What  were 
their  treaties  worth,  that  they  should  be  kept?  These  people,  one  and  all, 
were  invaders  of  a  continent,  theirs  from  time  immemorial;  already  the  whole 
sea  coast  had  been  wrested  from  them,  and  now  there  was  to  be  a  war,  to 
determine  which  of  their  despoilers  was  to  possess  other  lands  to  which  only 
they  had  claim. 

There  is  little  doubt  that  the  Half  King  and  his  colleagues  thought  well 
before  they  took  the  step  that  should  irrevocably  commit  them  to  antago 
nism  with  the  French.  They  knew  that,  should  they  go  to  the  lake  forts, 
and  offer  their  friendship  and  alliance,  they  would  still  be  received  with  open 
arms,  loaded  with  gifts  and  protected,  so  far  as  the  French  power  could  pro 
tect  them.  The  French  had  been  much  more  active  than  the  English;  they 
were  already  strongly  placed  in  the  valley,  and  had  the  advantage  of  being 


24  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

able  to  move  a  large  force  by  water  into  its  very  heart,  while  the  English, 
before  they  could  gain  the  same  ground,  must  make  the  weary  and  difficult 
march  over  the  mountains,  subjected  at  every  step  to  ambuscades.  All 
these  considerations  were  doubtless  weighed,  during  those  three  days. 
What  turned  the  balance  in  favor  of  the  English  will  never  be  known,  but 
turned  it  was  and  very  fortunately,  for  the  service  of  the  Half  King  and 
his  warriors  was  of  inestimable  value  in  the  war  that  followed. 

Before  setting  out  from  Logtown,  Washington  obtained  some  interest 
ing  and  important  information.  From  an.  Indian  trader  named  Frazier,  who 
had  recently  been  driven  by  the  French  from  the  Indian  village  of 
Venango,  where  he  had  a  trading  store  and  gun  shop,  was  acquired  a  very 
just  idea  of  the  force  of  the  French,  and  the  further  information  that  their 
commander  had  recently  died,  and  that  they  were  now  in  winter  quarters. 
Three  French  soldiers,  who  had  set  out  from  New  Orleans  for  the  upper 
river  posts,  with  a  convoy  of  provisions,  having  deserted,  passed  through 
Logtown  and  gave  him  a  very  full  statement  of  the  number,  position,  and 
strength  of  the  Mississippi  defenses.  From  the  Half  King  he  learned  that 
the  French  were  concentrating  their  forces  at  the  headwaters  of  the  Alle 
gheny,  preparatory  to  descending  the  river  in  force,  in  the  spring,  by  means 
of  bateaux  and  canoes.  "They  have  built,"  said  Tanacharisson,  "two 
forts,  one  on  French  creek,  and  the  other  at  its  mouth,  fifteen  miles  distant, 
and  connected  the  two  by  a  wagon  road."  The  direct  way  to  these  forts, 
at  one  of  which  the  commander  would  be  found,  was  impassable,  by  reason 
of  recent  rains,  and  it  would  be  necessary  to  go  by  way  of  Venango,  which 
would  so  prolong  the  journey  as  to  require  six  days  for  its  accomplishment. 

On  the  3Oth  day  of  November  the  little  party  set  out  upon  its  march, 
over  roads  in  the  worst  possible  condition — so  bad,  indeed,  that  Venango, 
though  but  seventy  miles  distant,  was  not  reached  until  the  4th  day  of  the 
following  month.  There  they  found  the  French  flag  flying,  and,  as  officer 
in  command,  the  same  Joncaire  upon  whom  the  French  had  relied  to  break 
up  the  grand  council  at  Logtown.  Joncaire  was  at  first  evidently  willing  to 
be  regarded  as  in  command  of  the  Ohio,  but,  finding  the  mission  to  be  one 
of  real  importance,  referred  them  to  his  superior  officer  at  the  next  fort. 
He  received  the  party  with  the  greatest  politeness,  and  invited  Washington 
and  his  interpreter,  Van  Braam  (the  quondam  master  of  fence),  to  dine  with 
himself  and  his  brother  officers  that  evening.  At  the  appointed  time  all  sat 
down  to  a  very  jovial  meal ;  the  bottle  passed  freely ;  Washington  having 
the  good  sense  to  drink  no  more  than  courtesy  demanded,  for  the  most  part 
leaving  Van  Braam  to  represent  him  in  that  particular,  an  office  for  which 
the  taste  and  capacity  of  the  old  Dutchman  amply  qualified  him  The 
Frenchmen  were  not  so  discreet,  and,  after  the  meal  had  advanced  to  a 
certain  point,  became  very  communicative  regarding  the  plans  and  inten 
tions  of  their  superiors.  They  avowed  their  determination  to  take  posses- 


THE  EXPEDITION  TO  FRENCH  CREEK.  2$ 

sion  of  the  Ohio,  to  drive  out  all  settlers  and  traders,  and  to  establish  the 
supremacy  which  they  claimed  as  belonging  to  France  by  virtue  of  the  dis 
coveries  of  La  Salle. 

Washington  had  wisely,  and,  thus  far,  successfully,  endeavored  to  pre 
vent  his  Indian  companions  from  falling  into  Joncaire's  company.  In  the 
morning,  probably  through  Van  Braam's  indiscretion,  Joncaire  found  that 
the  Half  King  was  one  of  Washington's  escort.  He  expressed  the  greatest 
surprise  that  the  sachem  should  come  to  Venango  without  visiting  him,  and 
insisted  that  he  and  the  two  chiefs  that  were  his  companions,  should  at 
once  be  brought  to  his  quarters  to  share  in  a  feast.  The  three  came,  and 
Joncaire,  understanding  as  he  did  every  phase  of  the  Indian  character, 
plied  them  alternately  with  gifts  and  liquor  until  Tanacharisson  was,  meta 
phorically  speaking,  under  the  table,  his  confreres  in  a  state  not  much  to  be 
preferred,  and  all  loud  in  maudlin  praise  of  French  liberality  and  friendli 
ness.  From  all  this  Washington  escaped  at  last,  richer  by  much  informa 
tion,  poorer  by  the  dubious  condition  and  loyalty  of  his  red  allies. 

Upon  the  following  day  the  Half  King  came  to  him  very  much  ashamed 
of  his  exploit,  and  full  of  protestations  of  good  faith.  At  this  point  an 
immediate  movement  seemed  easy,  but,  a  heavy  rain  storm  coming  up,  it 
was  necessarily  delayed,  and  the  Indians  of  the  party  subjected  still  farther 
to  influences  that  Washington  could  not  but  know  were  very  dangerous. 
Tanacharisson  declared  that  he  intended  to  make  his  speech,  relinquish 
ing  the  friendship  of  the  French  and  returning  the  speech  belts,  to  the  sub 
ordinate,  Joncaire,  rather  than  to  the  general  officer,  and  persisted,  in  spite 
of  Washington's  objections,  in  at  once  so  doing.  Joncaire  very  cleverly 
managed  to  evade  acceptance  of  the  belts,  and  referred  the  chief  to  the  com 
mandant  on  French  creek.  During  the  whole  of  that  day  and  the  next, 
the  party  was  detained  at  Venango,  by  solicitations  of  Joncaire,  directed  at 
the  Indians,  and  when,  on  the  morning  of  December  7th,  they  set  out,  it 
was  only  to  find  themselves  accompanied  by  a  French  officer,  named  La 
Force,  and  three  soldiers,  who  pleaded  some  excuse  for  the  journey,  but 
evidently  went  as  a  foil  to  Washington's  influence  with  the  chiefs. 

Four  days  more  were  occupied  in  reaching  the  fort,  which  was  found  to 
be  guarded  by  strong  palisades  and  armed  with  artillery.  A  new  command 
ant — the  Chevalier  Legardeur  de  St.  Pierre, — was  found  in  charge.  He 
received  Washington  with  all  the  ceremony  usual  to  such  an  occasion,  and 
thus  gave  the  young  man  his  first  view  of  civilized  diplomacy.  The  cheva 
lier  declined  to  receive  or  examine  the  papers  presented,  until  the  arrival  of 
the  officer  whom  he  had  lately  relieved.  This  occurred  within  a  few 
hours,  when  the  communication  of  the  Governor  was  received  by  the 
two,  who  retired  to  a  private  room  and  read  it,  by  the  assistance  of  their 
translator.  After  this  was  over  Washington  and  Van  Braam  were  called 
in  and  the  translation  compared  and  corrected.  The  purport  of 


26  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

the  letter  was,  as  has  been  indicated,  a  simple  demand  for  the  with 
drawal  of  French  forces,  and  the  relinquishment  of  French  occupancy  of 
"the  western  portion  of  the  colony  of  Virginia,  so  notoriously  known 
to  be  the  property  of  the  crown  of  Great  Britain/'  The  letter  closed 
as  follows :  "I  persuade  myself  you  will  receive  and  entertain  Major 
Washington  with  the  candor  and  politeness  natural  to  your  nation,  and  it 
will  give  me  the  greatest  satisfaction  if  you  can  return  him  with  an  answer 
suitable  to  my  wishes  for  a  long  and  lasting  peace  between  us."  It 
must  be  said,  in  justice  to  the  Chevalier  de  St.  Pierre,  that  he  did 
receive  and  treat  Washington  with  the  most  distinguished  courtesy. 
The  two  days  following  were  consumed  in  council  by  the  French  officers, 
while  Washington  made  notes  regarding  the  strength  of  the  fortifications, 
and  the  number  of  canoes  already  prepared  and  those  building,  for  use  in 
conveying  an  army  down  the  river  in  the  spring.  His  men  were  also 
instructed  to  be  observant,  and  it  is  safe  to  say  that  there  was  little  of  detail 
or  floating  information  that  did  not  come  into  their  possession. 

On  the  evening  of  the  I4th  Washington  received  a  sealed  letter  in 
answer  to  the  message  of  Governor  Dinwiddie.  In  the  meantime  (and  this 
was  probably  the  secret  of  the  detention,  for  the  letter  was  not  such  as  to 
have  required  so  much  consideration)  every  effort  had  been  made  to  seduce 
the  Indian  escort  from  their  faith  with  the  English.  Washington,  discover 
ing  this  fact,  urged  the  Half  King  to  make  an  immediate  return  of  his 
wampum  speech  belts  and  so  cut  loose  from  French  influence.  He  at  last 
succeeded  in  arranging  a  private  audience  between  the  chiefs  and  the  com 
mander,  and  Tanacharisson  tendered  the  belts  in  a  speech  very  similar  in 
import  to  that  made  at  Fort  Sandusky,  and  to  the  one  delivered  to  Joncaire. 
The  chevalier,  by  the  most  consummate  finesse,  evaded  accepting  the  belts, 
and  gave,  instead,  many  protestations  of  friendship  and  the  promise  to  send 
a  large  quantity  of  valuable  presents  to  Logtown,  when  the  chiefs  should 
return.  The  efforts  of  the  French  were  successful  in  detaining  the  party 
until  the  I5th,  when  they  at  last  departed,  Washington's  canoes  liberally 
stored  with  liquors  and  provisions,  the  Indians  loaded  with  presents  and  a 
large  amount  of  gifts,  in  addition,  packed  in  canoes  and  under  charge  of 
French  soldiers,  to  be  distributed  to  the  tribe  at  Logtown.  It  was 
not  until  the  22d  that  the  canoes  reached  Venango,  where  the  pack- 
horses  were  in  waiting.  There  Washington,  sorely  against  his  will, 
was  obliged  to  leave  the  chiefs  in  the  doubtful  society  of  Joncaire,  one  of 
them,  White  Thunder  by  name,  having  met  with  an  accident  that  incapaci 
tated  him  for  travel.  The  Half  King  assured  him,  however,  that  he  knew 
the  French  too  well  to  be  misled  by  anything  they  might  do  or  say,  and 
that  there  need  be  no  fears  of  his  loyalty,  and  these  protestations,  unlike 
many  made  by  the  Indians,  proved  to  be  sincere. 

Washington  pushed  on   with  his  little  train,  but  his  pack-horses,  over- 


THE  EXPEDITION  TO  FRENCH  CREEK.  2? 

laden  and  obliged  to  plunge  through  snow  and  mud,  soon  began  to  show 
signs  of  failing.  He  gave  up  his  own  saddle-horse  for  the  service,  and 
marched  on  foot  to  a  point  on  the  southeast  fork  of  Beaver  creek.  At  this 
place,  becoming  impatient  of  the  slow  progress  made,  he  donned  an  Indian 
dress,  strapped  a  pack  upon  his  back,  and,  accompanied  by  the  woodsman 
Gist,  heretofore  mentioned,  who  was  one  of  his  party,  struck  through  the 
woods  on  foot,  in  a  line  as  nearly  as  possible  directly  toward  the  settle 
ments. 

Soon  after  thus  leaving  his  little  escort  Washington  and  his  companion 
fell  in,  at  a  place  bearing  the  unpromising  name  of  Murdering  Town,  with  a 
number  of  Indians  who,  while  expressing  the  utmost  friendliness,  betrayed 
by  their  questions  that  they  were  already  possessed  of  information  that 
could  only  have  come  from  the  French.  Hence  it  was  with  much  regret 
that  he  acknowledged  the  necessity  of  engaging  one  of  them  as  a  guide,  for 
the  journey  through  the  trackless  and  unknown  wilderness  that  lay  before 
him.  He  was,  however,  compelled  to  make  such  acknowledgment  and  to 
trust  his  safety  to  such  doubtful  leadership.  Pushing  on,  through  the  thick 
woods,  the  Indian  in  advance,  Washington  soon  became  satisfied  that  the 
direction  taken  was  not  the  right  one.  He  tasked  the  guide  with  treachery, 
but  received  only  surly  and  unsatisfactory  answers.  For  some  time  the 
march  was  continued  in  the  same  direction,  when,  being  lame  with  much 
walking,  Washington  suggested  going  into  camp.  The  Indian  objected,  on 
the  ground  that  the  light  of  their  fires  would  be  likely  to  attract  some  wan 
dering  band  of  hostiles,  and  said  that  if  they  would  but  continue  a  little 
farther  they  would  reach  his  own  lodge,  where  they  could  sleep  safely.  So 
they  pushed  on.  Night  began  to  gather  and  soon,  in  the  shade  of  the  dense 
woods,  it  was  almost  impossible  to  sec  their  way.  Fmerging  at  last  into  a 
clearing,  or  natural  opening,  the  young  leader  peremptorily  ordered  a  camp 
to  be  arranged,  saying  that  he  would  go  no  farther.  In  the  opening,  the 
stars  shining  upon  the  snow  rendered  objects  at  some  distance  distinctly 
visible.  The  Indian  walked  a  few  paces  in  advance  of  his  companions 
and,  turning,  suddenly  presented  his  rifle  and  fired.  Washington,  find 
ing  himself  safe  and  ascertaining  that  Gist  had  also  escaped,  pur 
sued  the  treacherous  savage,  and,  joined  by  Gist,  the  two  captured 
the  fugitive  when  in  the  act  of  reloading  his  gun.  Gist,  with  the  instinct 
of  a  veteran  backwoodsman,  was  for  shooting  the  captive  at  once, 
but  Washington  forbade  his  doing  so,  and  the  man  was  deprived  of 
his  rifle,  compelled  to  build  a  fire  and  assist  in  cooking  a  supper,  then, 
after  being  taken  some  distance  in  a  new  direction, — that  in  which 
Washington  believed  their  true  course  to  lie,  was  dismissed,  probably  very 
much  puzzled  at  the  clemency  of  his  captors.  Gist  insisted  that,  as  they 
had  been  so  unwise  as  to  liberate  the  man,  they  must  needs  push  on  during 
the  night,  so  that  they  might  be  out  of  the  neighborhood  before  he  could 


28  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

obtain  assistance  and  return.      Hence,  though  Washington  was  partially  dis 
abled  and   both  were  terribly  fatigued,    they  tramped   on   in  the    darkness, 
with  nothing  better  than  a  guess  of  their  direction,  until,  just  at  daybreak, 
they  reached  the  bank  of  the  Allegheny.      Much   to   their   disappointment 
they  found   that,   in  spite   of  the   intense   cold,    the  stream  was  not  frozen, 
except   for  a   short  distance  on    either    hand — these    margins   skirting   the 
swollen  and  turbid  current,  which  carried  with  it  great  blocks   arid  masses 
of   ice.      In    spite   of   a  day  and   night  of  incessant   marching,    which  had 
nearly  prostrated  both  with  fatigue,  Washington   and  Gist  fell  to  work  with 
their  only  tools, — a  small  hatchet  and  their  hunting  knives, — to  make  a  raft. 
Logs    were    cut,    shaped,  and    fastened  with   grape  tendrils,    but    so    slow 
was  the  progress  made,  that  darkness   found   the  work  but  just  completed, 
and  it  was  necessary  to  wait  for  morning  before   the  raft  could  be  launched. 
At  daybreak   this  difficult  work  was  accomplished,   and   the  perilous  opera 
tion  of  propelling  the  frail  affair  across  the  river  with  poles  was  begun.     In 
mid-stream  the  raft,  striking  a  great  cake  of  ice,  gave   way,    the  logs  sepa 
rated  and  the  two  passengers  fell  into  the  bitterly  cold  water.      Fortunately 
each  seized  a  log  and,  as  if  in  the  especial  care  of  Providence,  the  logs  and 
men  were  floated  upon  an  island  lying  in  mid-stream,  a  short  distance  below 
where  the  accident  occurred.      Their  guns,  powder,  and  blankets,  too,  were 
saved,    and   they  succeeded  in  erecting,  a  bark  shelter  and   building  a  fire 
upon  the  island,    where  they  were  at  least  safe  from  the   Indians.      Gist's 
hands  and  feet  were  frozen,  but  Washington  suffered  no  ill  effects  from  his 
bath  and  exposure.      Upon  awaking  in  the  morning,    they  discovered  that 
the  stream  was  frozen  quite  across,  and  were  able  to  walk  to  shore  without 
difficulty.      Before  night  they   reached    the    house  of    Frazier,    the  Indian 
trader  on  the  Monongahela,  at  the  mouth  of  Turtle  creek.     There  Washing 
ton  was  detained  for  three  days  before  he  could  buy  a  horse,  which,   having 
obtained,  he  pushed  on  across  the  mountains,    stopped   one  day  with  the 
Fairfax  family  at  Belvoir,   then   hastened  on  to  Williamsburg  and  delivered 
to  the  hands  of  Governor  Dinwiddie  the  papers  obtained    from  the  French 
commandant.     The  reply  of  the  Chevalier  de  St.  Pierre  was  the  only  one  a 
military    officer    acting    under    instructions    could     make — polite,     politic, 
evasive.      After  saying   that  he  would  transmit   the  communication  of  Gov 
ernor  Dinwiddie  to  the  Governor  of  Canada,   in  whom,  rather   than  in  him, 
it  would   be  becoming  to   speak  for  the   king,    concerning   the  merits  of  a 
matter  so  important,  he  wrote,  referring  to  his  personal  action : 

"As  to  the  summons  you  send  me  to  retire,  T  do  not  think  myself 
obliged  to  obey  it.  Whatever  may  be  your  instructions,  I  am  here  by 
virtue  of  the  orders  of  my  general ;  and  I  entreat  you,  sir,  not  to  doubt 
one  rnoment  that  I  am  determined  to  conform  myself  to  them  with  all  the 
exactness  and  resolution  that  can  be  expected  of  the  best  officer." 

The  publication  of   this  letter  and  of  the  journal  kept  by  Washington 


THE  EXPEDITION  TO  FRENCH  CREEK. 


29 


during  his  journey,  created  the  greatest  excitement,  both  in  the  colonies 
and  in  England.  War  was  now  inevitable,  and  the  mother  country  was  for 
the  first  time  awakened  to  the  necessity  for  speedy  and  decisive  action  as 
the  only  means  of  preserving  her  imperilled  American  possessions. 


BRADDOCK'S  BATTLEFIELD  AS  IT  APPEARS  TO-DAY. 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 


CHAPTER  V. 

WASHINGTON'S  FIRST  CAMPAIGN. 

WASHINGTON  awoke  to  find  himself  a  marked  man ;    everywhere 
in  Virginia  he  was  looked  upon  as  the  leader  of  the  rising  genera 
tion  in  the   colony,  while  in  England  his  name  was  heard  in  every  club  and 
drawing-room,   and  was   prominent    in    the  deliberations    of    grave  cabinet 
councils. 

Immediately  upon  the  receipt  of  his  report,  it  was  determined  that 
active  steps  be  taken  to  forcibly  oppose  the  further  advance  of  the  French, 
and,  to  this  end,  the  same  Captain  Trent,  who  had  proven  himself  so  cow 
ardly  and  incompetent  upon  a  former  expedition,  was  dispatched  to  the 
frontier,  to  raise  a  company  of  one  hundred  men,  with  orders  to  proceed  to 
the  point  near  the  junction  of  the  Allegheny  and  the  Monongahela, 
where  the  Ohio  company  was  engaged  in  erecting  a  fort;  Washington 
was  commissioned  to  raise  a  like  force  at  Alexandria,  and,  forming  a 
junction  with  Trent,  to  assume  command  of  the  entire  body.  An  appli 
cation  was  made  to  the  sister  colonies  for  aid  in  the  movement,  but  the 
same  lack  of  unity  and  harmony  that  had  frustrated  other  efforts  of 
the  kind,  proved  equally  efficacious  in  this  case,  and  no  substantial  result 
was  obtained.  Governor  Dinwiddie  met  with  great  difficulty  in  persuading 
the  Virginia  House  of  Burgesses  to  vote  funds  for  the  military  chest,  and  it 
was  only  with  infinite  pains  that  an  appropriation  of  the  beggarly  sum  of 
ten  thousand  pounds  was  grudgingly  made,  "for  the  purpose  of  protecting 
settlers  on  the  waters  of  the  Mississippi."  Upon  securing  these  funds,  Din 
widdie  concluded  to  increase  the  levy  of  men  to  three  hundred,  and  the 
command  of  all  was  again  offered  to  Washington,  but  he  modestly  declined 
it,  preferring  to  retain  his  original  commission,  raise  a  company  and  then 
to  act  under  orders.  Colonel  Joshua  Fry  was  consequently  placed  in  charge 
of  the  anticipated  expedition,  and  Washington  was  made  second  in  com 
mand,  with  the  rank  of  lieutenant-colonel.  As  the  event  proved,  the 


WASHINGTON'S  FIRST  EXPEDITION.  31 

younger  officer  was  destined,  in  spite  of  his  preferences,  to  assume  the 
practical  command  of  the  force,  and  to  bear  the  brunt  of  much  unjust 
criticism. 

Preparations  for  the  march  were  not  rapidly  advanced  until  Governor 
Dinwiddie  adopted,  for  the  first  time,  an  expedient  that  has  often  since  served 
the  American  people  in  their  times  of  need.  He  made  a  proclamation  set 
ting  aside  two  hundred  thousand  acres  of  land  on  the  Ohio  river,  to  be 
divided  as  bounty  among  the  soldiers  volunteering  for  this  service  against 
the  French.  As  a  consequence  of  this  measure,  Washington  was  enabled  to 
march  from  Alexandria  for  the  new  fort,  on  the  2nd  day  of  April,  1754,  with 
one  hundred  and  fifty  men  of  his  regiment,  leaving  the  advance  of  the 
remainder  in  the  hands  of  his  superior  officer.  The  instructions  given  the 
leaders  of  the  force,  arc  thus  formulated  by  the  somewhat  imaginative 
Abbott:  "March  rapidly  across  the  mountains;  disperse,  capture,  or  kill  all 
persons,  not  subjects  of  the  king  of  Great  Britain,  who  are  attempting  to  take 
possession  of  the  territory  of  his  majesty  on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio  river 
or  any  of  its  tributaries."  This  was  a  serious  undertaking,  and  was  no 
doubt  so  regarded  by  the  young  officer,  who  led  his  undisciplined  and  ill 
equipped  little  band  across  the  steep  and  rugged  way  that  lay  between  the 
home  of  the  rather  pragmatical  and  pompous  Governor  and  the  objective 
point  of  the  march.  It  now  seems  ridiculous  that  so  inefficient  and  slender  a 
force  should  have  been  sent  out  for  the  execution  of  such  sounding  orders, 
but  so  it  was,  and  perhaps  even  Washington,  counting  upon  a  shelter  in  the 
new  fort,  may  have  been  sanguine  of  success.  It  is  impossible  to  recount 
at  length  the  history  of  this  expedition  ;  vexed,  hampered,  and  crippled  by 
the  economy  of  the  Burgesses,  the  insufficiency  of  every  manner  of  equip 
ment  and  the  imbecility  of  his  fellow-officers,  Washington's  lot  was  hard 
indeed.  At  Winchester  he  was  obliged  to  impress  teams  and  wagons  for 
transportation,  and  even  on  those  terms  could  obtain  but  few.  Pushing  on 
to  Wills  creek,  cutting  a  road  as  he  went,  that  the  wagons  and  artillery  to 
follow  with  the  main  body  might  pass,  he  arrived  at  that  trading  post  of  the 
Ohio  company,  only  to  find  that  Captain  Trent  had  given  another  evidence 
of  his  incapacity  by  entirely  failing  to  provide  pack-horses  for  the  arm}',  as 
he  had  undertaken  to  do.  Before  reaching  Wills  creek  a  report  had  come  to 
Washington,  that  Captain  Trent  and  his  entire  force  had  been  surprised  and 
captured  by  the  French,  and  that  the  partially  completed  fort  was  in  the 
hands  of  the  enemy.  Upon  arriving  at  the  trading-post  Trent  was  found; 
the  story  of  the  capture  he  said  had  reached  him  as  well,  but  he  could 
not  say  as  to  its  truth,  as  he  had  left  the  camp  several  days  before,  and 
the  men  were  then  safe  and  working  busily  at  the  fort.  This  cool  dismissal 
of  the  matter  left  Washington  in  much  anxiety,  for  the  time,  but  all  doubt 
was  soon  dispelled  by  the  arrival  at  Wills  creek  of  the  fifty  men  from  the 
fort,  bearing  their  working  tools,  and  under  command  of  an  ensign.  The 


32  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

story  of  their  experience  was  short,  but  it  pointedly  illustrated  the  stupidity 
of  the  English,  and  the  superior  sagacity  of  the  French.  While  working 
upon  the  fort — not  yet  half  finished — they  had  been  surprised  one  morning 
by  the  arrival  of  about  one  thousand  French  soldiers,  under  command  of 
Captain  Contrecceur.  This  force  was  drawn  up  before  the  fort,  its  artillery 
planted,  and  a  summons  sent  in  for  the  surrender  of  the  works  within  one 
hour,  with  the  added  statement  that  if  surrender  were  not  so  made,  fire 
would  be  at  once  opened.  Captain  Frazier,  the  second  in  command,  had 
imitated  his  superior  officer  and  gone  to  his  home,  ten  miles  distant,  leaving 
the  command  in  the  hands  of  the  young  subaltern  referred  to.  When  the 
demand  for  surrender  came,  the  latter  sought  the  French  commander  and 
endeavored  to  gain  time  by  pleading  insufficiency  of  rank.  Captain  Con 
trecceur  was,  however,  inflexible,  and  the  young  officer  was  perforce 
obliged  to  accept  the  best  terms  he  could — freedom  for  .himself  and  men  to 
retire  with  their  tools. 

Washington  now  determined  to  push  forward  to  the  company's  advance 
storehouse,  at  the  mouth  of  Redstone  creek,  fortify  himself,  and  await  rein 
forcements.  He  sent  an  urgent  message  to  the  Governor  of  Virginia,  recit 
ing  the  condition  of  affairs,  and  dwelling  upon  the  immediate  necessity  for 
men,  stores,  artillery,  and  ammunition,  if  he  were  to  cope  with  the  superior 
and  better  disciplined  force  of  the  enemy.  He  also  sent  messages  to  the 
Governors  of  Maryland  and  Pennsylvania,  soliciting  aid,  and  runners  to  the 
friendly  Indian  tribes  with  the  same  mission.  He  then  pushed  on,  cutting 
his  road  as  he  went,  and  moving,  of  necessity,  so  slowly  that,  setting  out 
on  the  29th  of  April,  he  had,  on  the  7th  of  May,  only  reached  the  prairie 
called  Little  Meadows,  twenty  miles  from  his  starting  point.  Thence 
he  advanced  in  the  same  laborious  manner,  until  he  reached  the  banks  of 
the  Youghiogheny  river,  where  the  necessity  of  building  a  bridge  caused 
a  long  delay.  Pending  the  completion  of  the  work,  Lieutenant-colonel 
Washington  again  wrote  to  Governor  Dinwiddie,  beseeching  him  to  send 
the  assistance  so  necessary  to  success,  representing  that  the  enemy  was 
holding  his  position  in  force,  having  received  large  reinforcements  of  French 
and  Indians,  that  more  Indians  were  moving  to  join  him,  and  that  he 
was  throwing  all  his  energies  into  the  erection  of  a  fort  at  the  junction  of 
the  Allegheny  and  Monongahela,  which,  if  completed  and  equipped,  would 
be  practically  impregnable,  save  to  artillery. 

During  the  building  of  the  bridge,  and  on  the  23d  of  May,  came  word 
that  half  of  the  French  force  at  Fort  Duquesne  had  been  detached  for  some 
active  service ;  then  followed  a  message  from  the  Half  King  that  this 
detachment  was  made  with  the  purpose  of  attacking  the  American  force,  and, 
on  the  heels  of  this  second  message,  a  report  that  the  French  were  crossing 
the  river  in  force,  at  a  point  but  eighteen  miles  distant.  Washington  at 
once  retired  to  Great  Meadows,  threw  up  intrenchments,  sent  out  a 


33 

reconnoitering  party,  and  prepared  for  the  expected  attack.  Nothing  of 
moment  occurred  on  that  night,  or  during  the  following  day,  save  that  news 
came  that  La  Force,  with  a  body  of  French  numbering  fifty  men,  had 
been  seen  prowling  in  the  neighborhood.  At  night  came  another  message 
from  the  Half  King,  who  was  encamped,  with  some  of  his  people,  not  far 
from  the  Virginian  force,  that  he  had  discovered  the  tracks  of  two  French 
men,  leading  in  the  direction  of  the  French  fort.  These  Washington 
caused  to  be  traced  backward,  by  Indians,  with  the  result  of  discovering  the 
camp  of  a  French  detachment,  in  a  retired  bottom,  a  few  miles  from  the 
Virginian  position.  He  held  a  council  with  the  Half  King,  and  decided  to 
make  an  effort  to  surprise  the  enemy  at  daylight — the  colonial  and  Indian 
forces  so  approaching  as  to  arrive  from  different  directions  at  nearly  the 
same  time,  and  thus,  cutting  off  retreat  at  both  sides,  cither  to  insure  a 
victory  by  arms,  or.  to  compel  a  surrender.  The  men  consequently  set  off 
through  the  thick  darkness  of  the  forest,  the  rain  falling  in  torrents,  and  the 
moaning  wind  effectually  drowning  the  noise  of  their  stealthy  march. 
Washington  and  his  Virginians  were  first  on  the  ground,  and  first  discovered 
by  the  French.  As  to  what  next  occurred,  accounts  disagree,  some  his 
torians  maintaining  that,  as  soon  as  the  French  recovered  from  their  sur 
prise,  they  seized  their  guns  and  opened  fire  upon  the  approaching  force; 
others  holding  that  the  English  fired  the  opening  volley,  which  was  the  first 
of  the  bloody  war  between  France  and  England,  for  supremacy  upon  Amer 
ican  soil.  The  firing  continued  very  briskly,  upon  both  sides,  for  some 
twenty  minutes,  when  the  French,  being  outnumbered,  broke  and  ran,  and 
all  were  killed,  wounded  or  captured,  save  one,  who  escaped  unharmed,  to 
bear  the  tidings  to  the  fort.  Jumonville,  the  French  commander,  and  a 
very  gallant  young  officer,  was  killed  at  the  first  fire.  Among  the  prisoners 
were  two  officers,  named  Drouillon  and  La  Force,  the  latter  esteemed  to  be 
one  of  the  most  mischievous  of  the  many  men  employed  by  the  French,  as 
go-betweens,  in  dealing  with  the  Indians,  and  as  scouts  ami  spies  upon  the 
movements  of  the  English.  All  these  prisoners  were  dispatched  to  Vir 
ginia,  under  guard,  with  a  letter  to  the  Governor,  requesting  that  they  be 
treated  as  prisoners  of  war  —  Drouillon  and  La  Force  being  especially 
recommended  to  the  consideration  which  their  rank  and  position  deserved. 
At  the  same  time,  Washington  thought  it  necessary  to  inform  the  Gov 
ernor,  by  a  private  messenger,  of  the  peculiarly  artful  and  dangerous  char 
acter  of  La  Force. 

As  if  to  increase  the  difficulties  of  his  situation,  news  came  of  the  death 
of  Colonel  Fry,  commander  of  the  expedition,  and,  though  the  Governor 
wrote  that  a  successor  had  been  appointed  in  the  person  of  Colonel  Junes, 
Washington  saw  little  prospect  of  being  relieved  from  the  responsibilities  of 
his  position,  and  it  indeed  proved  to  be  the  case  that  neither  Colonel  Junes 
nor  the  force  which  accompanied  him  ever  saw  service  in  the  campaign. 


34  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

The  arrival  of  the  men  who  had  been  under  Fry's  immediate  command, 
increased  the  force  at  Great  Meadows  to  three  hundred,  and  also  added  the 
few  light  swivels  that  had  ocen  so  toilsomely  dragged  over  the  mountains. 
A  letter  to  Washington  from  the  Governor  announced  that  an  inde 
pendent  company  of  one  hundred  South  Carolina  troops,  under  the  com 
mand  of  Captain  Mackay,  would  soon  join  him.  With  their  arrival,  which 
occurred  soon  after,  began  the  series  of  unfortunate  misunderstandings  as  to 
the  matter  of  precedence  between  royal  and  colonial  officers,  that  so  greatly 
impaired  the  efficiency  of  the  English  service  during  the  war  that  followed. 
Captain  Mackay  held  a  royal  commission,  and  soon  made  it  evident  that  he 
did  not  intend  to  recognize  Washington's  rank  under  the  commission  of 
the  Governor  of  Virginia.  Kis  men  shared  the  feeling,  declined  to  submit 
to  the  discipline  of  the  camp,  or  to  assist  in  the  arduous  labors  of  fort-build 
ing  and  road-making,  in  whicn  the  Virginians  were  engaged ;  they  encamped 
apart,  maintained  their  own  organization  and  routine,  and,  though  blessed 
with  most  excellent  appetites,  were  never,  throughout  the  campaign,  other 
than  an  incumbrance.  As  if  ail  these  vexations  were  not  enough,  pro 
visions  fell  short,  and  the  young  commander  saw  that  but  two  courses  were 
open  to  him — a  bold  advance,  which  might  result  in  victory,  or  a  retreat, 
which  could  not  fail  to  demoralize  the  army,  alienate  the  Indian  allies,  and 
gravely  imperil  the  ultimate  chances  for  the  maintenance  of  the  English  title 
to  the  Ohio  valley.  Having  completed  his  stockade  at  Great  Meadows, 
afterwards  known  as  "Fort  Necessity,"  and,  leaving  the  South  Carolina 
men  as  its  garrison,  he  therefore  pushed  forward  with  the  Virginia  force, 
hoping  to  make  Fort  Duquesne  by  forced  marches,  and  strike  an  effec 
tive  blow  before  the  fort  could  be  reinforced  or  completed. 

He  had  advanced  but  thirteen  miles  when  news  was  brought,  by 
friendly  Indians,  that  a  large  additional  body  of  French  had  arrived  at  Du 
quesne,  and  that  a  considerable  detachment,  with  Indian  allies  "as  numer 
ous  as  pigeons  in  the  woods/'  was  advancing  to  attack  him.  His  situation 
was  truly  perilous;  Fort  Necessity  could  be  reached  from  Fort  Duquesne 
by  two  roads,  which  united  at  the  former  point ;  there  was  reason  to  fear, — 
and  the  event  justified  the  idea, — that  the  French  would  move  by  the  second 
road,  place  a  strong  force  in  his  rear,  and,  hemming  him  into  the  narrow 
and  precipitous  way,  along  which  his  line  extended,  cut  his  little  force  off 
from  all  possibility  of  escape.  Hence  a  forced  retreat  was  at  once  com 
menced,  with  the  hope  of  reaching  Wills  creek.  The  South  Carolina 
troops  were  sent  for,  and,  by  the  combined  aid  of  the  exhausted  horses  and 
the  Virginians  (the  South  Carolinians  refusing  to  assist)  the  guns  and 
baggage  were  transported  as  far  as  Fort  Necessity,  where  the  little  band 
arrived  on  the  1st  of  July.  The  men  fairly  refused  to  drag  the  guns 
another  step,  and  there  was  no  alternative  but  to  make  a  stand  at  the  fort. 
The  work  of  digging  a  ditch  about  the  palisade  was  at  once  commenced, 


WASHINGTON'S  FIRST  EXPEDITION.  35 

word  of  the  peril  of  the  force  and  the  pressing  need  of  reinforcements  was 
sent  to  Wills  creek,  and  every  possible  preparation  made  for  a  vigorous 
defense. 

Before  the  ditch  was  completed,  Washington's  Indian  allies  deserted 
him,  being  terrified  at  the  idea  of  risking  their  lives  and  those  of  their  wives 
and  children  in  so  desperate  a  contest.  On  the  following  morning — that  of 
the  3d — Captain  de  Villiers,  brother-in-law  of  De  Jumonville,  who  had  com 
manded  and  fallen  at  the  former  skirmish,  appeared  before  the  fort  with  a 
force  of  about  five  hundred  French,  and  an  Indian  contingent  of  one  thou 
sand  men,  and  at  once  began  a  furious  attack.  Washington  drew  his  men 
up  outside  the  fort  to  receive  the  enemy,  and  sometimes  in  that  order, 
sometimes  in  the  ditch,  and  sometimes  in  the  fort,  his  men  stood  the  terrible 
fire  of  a  force  which  five  times  outnumbered  them,  until  nightfall  ended  the 
fight.  Then  came  a  flag  from  De  Villiers  demanding  a  parley,  and  propos 
ing  terms  of  capitulation.  Unfortunately  the  only  officer  of  Washington's 
fort  who  was  thoroughly  master  of  French  was  wounded,  and  Van  Braam, 
who  had  before  served  in  that  capacity,  acted  as  interpreter.  The  first  pro 
posal  and  the  second  were  rejected  as  being  ignominious;  the  third  was 
submitted,  translated,  carefully  considered,  and  at  last  accepted.  It  pro 
vided  that  the  fort  should  be  surrendered,  that  its  garrison  should  be  allowed 
the  honors  of  war — to  retain  their  small  arms  and  baggage,  and  be  per- 
mitted  to  march  out  of  the  fort  with  colors  flying  and  drums  beating. 
Their  cannon  were  to  be  destroyed — indeed,  as  all  the  horses  were  killed 
they  could  not  be  removed  ;  and  the  French,  on  their  part,  guaranteed  that 
the  evacuating  force  should  be  allowed  to  return,  without  molestation,  to 
the  inhabited  portion  of  Virginia. 

These  were  surely  honorable  terms ;  it  was  upon  one  ciause  that  a  vast 
amount  of  most  unjust  abuse  of  Washington  was,  years  afterward,  based, 
all,  however,  with  a  deliberate  desire  to  injure  him,  for  the  benefit  of  his 
political  enemies.  As  has  been  said,  the  articles  of  capitulation  were  in 
French.  In  one  portion  the  death  of  Jumonville,  already  related,  was 
referred  to  as  ' '  f  assassinat  du  Sicur  dc  Jumowville"  This  sentence,  liter 
ally  rendered,  of  course  branded  Washington  as  guilty  of  the  munlcr  of 
Monsieur  de  Jumonville,  but  Van  Braam,  a  Dutchman,  understanding  the 
full  force  of  neither  French  nor  Fnglish,  rendered  it  simply  "the  dcatJi  of 
Monsieur  de  Jumonville."  Under  the  misapprehension  thus  arising,  Wash 
ington  agreed  to  the  terms  of  surrender.  In  accordance  with  these  the 
shattered  band  of  colonial  soldiers  marched  out  of  Fort  Necessity  on  the 
following  morning,  and,  bearing  their  wounded,  moved  slowly  and  wearily 
toward  Wills  creek.  The  killed  and  wounded  of  the  Virginian  force  num 
bered  fifty-eight,  of  a  total  of  three  hundred ;  what  were  the  losses  of  the 
independent  company  and  the  French  force  has  never  been  stated. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  farther  follow  the  history  of  the  campaign.     The 


36  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

force  reached  Winchester,  after  great  hardships,  and  was  ordered  to  remain 
there  and  recruit.  Washington,  after  making  his  report,  hastened  to  Mount 
Vernon  to  attend  to  his  business,  which  had  been  sadly  neglected.  The 
intrinsic  importance  of  this  unfortunate  and  abortive  expedition  was  perhaps 
not  such  as,  in  itself,  to  warrant  the  somewhat  minute  account  here  given, 
but  in  other  respects — in  its  effect  in  molding  the  mind  of  the  young  com 
mander,  in  the  experience  which  it  gave  him  in  managing  men,  in  meeting 
and  overcoming  difficulties,  and  in  the  addition  to  the  hardening  process 
already  well  begun  in  the  course  of  his  earlier  frontier  life,  its  value  was 
incalculable.  The  expedition  was  an  admirable  preparation  for  the  experi 
ences  through  which  Washington  was  destined  to  pass  during  the  war  of 
Independence;  then,  as  later,  he  led  a  small  force  against  one  vastly  greater 
in  number ;  a  body  of  raw  recruits  against  an  army  having  every  advantage 
of  discipline;  an  ill  equipped,  poorly  armed,  hungry,  tattered  body  of  men, 
against  one  in  every  such  particular  the  reverse  of  his  own.  He  had, 
too,  much  the  same  obstacles  arising  from  incompetency  among  his  fellow 
officers,  jealousy  and  questions  of  precedence  cropping  out  at  moments  of 
supreme  peril ;  imbecility  and  lack  of  encouragement  on  the  part  of 
governors  and  legislators — the  same  weary  and  disheartening  catalogue  of 
troubles  and  dangers  to  face,  and  in  the  midst  of  it  all,  then  as  twenty  years 
later,  he  was  firm,  self-contained,  brave,  modest,  self-denying,  and  God 
fearing,  and,  considering  the  stake,  the  smallness  of  the  forces  engaged 
and  the  limited  opportunities  for  distinction,  the  boy  of  twenty-two,  who 
brought  his  handful  of  men  in  safety  from  the  perils  that  menaced  it  at 
Fort  Necessity,  was  deserving  of  no  less  honor  than  he  who  cheered,  sus 
tained,  and  kept  coherent  the  freezing  and  starving  army  at  Valley  Forge. 

Another  and  historically  more  important  view  of  the  expedition,  arises 
from  the  attacks  then  at  intervals,  and  for  years  afterward,  made  upon 
the  character  and  discretion  of  Washington,  by  reason  of  the  affair  in  which 
Captain  De  Jumonville  lost  his  life.  The  fact  that  La  Force,  the  French 
emissary,  had  upon  his  person,  when  captured,  letters  demanding  the  with 
drawal  of  the  English  force  from  the  territory  to  the  west  of  the  Allegha- 
nies,  was  at  the  time  urged  by  the  prisoner,  and  has  since  been  distorted 
by  enemies  of  Washington,  to  indicate  that  De  Jumonville  and  his  party 
were  bound  upon  a  peaceful  mission  to  Washington,  and  that  the  attack 
upon  them  was  a  breach  of  military  rules,  and  precipitated  a  bloody  war. 

Let  us  glance  at  the  circumstances.  But  a  few  days  before,  a  party  of 
Virginians,  working  in  the  construction  of  the  fort  near  the  confluence  of 
the  Allegheny  and  Monongahcla,  had  been  compelled,  under  threat  of 
armed  attack,  to  retire  from  the  fort  and  from  the  neighborhood.  This  was 
an  act  of  war,  and  began  the  struggle  as  definitely  as  if  it  had  been  preceded 
by  a  formal  declaration,  and  had  resulted  in  the  loss  of  a  hundred  lives. 
Then,  when  the  force  commanded  by  De  Jumonville,  bearing  the  letter 


WASHINGTON'S  FIRST  EXPEDITION.  37 

referred  to,  advanced  from  the  French  camp,  it  did  not  move  directly  to 
Washington's  position,  approach  under  cover  of  a  flag  of  truce,  deliver  its 
message,  as  it  could  and  would  have  done  had  its  ostensible  mission  been 
its  real  one;  on  the  contrary,  De Jumonville  kept  his  men  in  the  vicinity, 
but,  as  he  supposed,  concealed  from  the  English  commander.  He  bore 
with  him  instructions  to  observe  the  position,  force,  and  armament  of  the 
English,  and  return  tidings  to  his  superior,  and  this  he  did,  as  the  trail 
of  the  two  couriers,  which  finally  betrayed  him,  clearly  shows.  There  can 
be  no  question  that  he  came  first  on  an  errand  of  observation — that  he  was 
a  spy ;  second,  the  evidence  indicates  that,  had  circumstances  promised  suc 
cess,  he  was  prepared  to  attack  the  main  body  of  Washington's  force,  or 
any  portion  of  it  that  fell  in  his  way  ;  third,  that  the  letter  demanding  the 
withdrawal  of  the  English  force  was  intended  for  the  very  purpose  it  was 
made  to  serve, — as  a  shield  in  case  of  capture.  The  matter  of  the  mistrans 
lated  phrase  in  the  capitulation,  has  already  been  explained;  on  the  face  of 
it,  it  is  not  likely  that  Washington,  opposed  by  a  vastly  superior  force,  with 
defeat  and  annihilation  staring  him  in  the  face,  would  have  twice  sent  back 
a  messenger,  bearing  terms  of  capitulation  which  he  refused  to  accept,  by 
reason  of  some  matter  of  detail  or  military  etiquette,  only  to  knowingly 
accede  to  the  terms  of  a  third  that  branded  him  as  a  murderer.  Upon 
Washington's  return  from  the  campaign  he  received  a  vote  of  commenda 
tion  and  thanks  from  the  Virginia  House  of  Burgesses,  which  body  had  all 
the  facts  in  the  case  before  it ;  this  fact  alone  clearly  indicates  the  con 
temporary  opinion  of  his  action,  as  expressed  by  a  body  which  had  shown 
anything  but  a  warlike  spirit.  Washington  himself  gave  an  answer  clear, 
pointed,  and  decisive,  to  the  imputation  placed  upon  him,  before  the  stigma 
had  had  time  to  attach.  In  a  letter  to  a  friend  he  reviewed  the  occurrences 
of  the  expedition,  and  so  thoroughly  cleared  himself  from  all  blame  that 
even  his  enemies  were  for  the  time  silenced,  and  did  not  venture  to  revive 
the  charges,  until  the  lapse  of  years  had,  as  they  supposed,  caused  the  facts 
to  be  forgotten.  What  was  said,  or  thought,  of  Washington,  by  such  o( 
his  contemporaries  as  could  not  endure  his  success,  is  of  little  consequence 
— the  misfortune  is  that  Fmich,  and  some  later  English,  historians  have 
perpetuated  what  was  originally  but  a  calumny,  invented  by  political 
enemies,  and  that,  among  American  historians,  some  have  been  found  ready 
to  become  the  apologists  of  what  they  assume  to  have  been  Washington's 
"youthful  indiscretion,"  rather  than  his  champions — when  the  act  which  is 
made  the  foundation  of  this  adverse  criticism,  was  clearly  justified  by  the 
circumstances. 

During  the  winter  that  followed  the  return  of  the  little  force  from  the 
Duquesne  campaign,  a  serious  affront  was  ofTered  to  the  officers  of  the 
colonial  troops  by  an  order  "settling  the  rank  of  officers  of  his  majesty's 
forces,  when  serving  with  the  provincials  of  North  America."  The  salient 


J8  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

point  of  this  order  was  conveyed  in  the  following  provisions:  "That  all 
officers  commissioned  by  the  king  or  by  his  general  in  North  America, 
should  take  rank  of  all  officers  commissioned  by  the  governors  of  the 
respective  provinces ;  and,  further,  that  the  general  and  field  officers  of  the 
provincial  troops  should  have  no  rank  when  serving  with  the  general  and 
field  officers  commissioned  by  the  crown ;  but  that  all  captains  and  other 
inferior  officers  of  the  royal  troops  should  take  rank  over  provincial  officers 
of  the  same  grade  having  royal  commissions."  This  alone  was  sufficient 
insult,  but  Governor  Dinwiddie,  with  the  foresight  of  a  bat  and  the  sagacity 
of  a  hare,  conceived  a  brilliant  plan  for  preventing  any  further  question  of 
precedence  between  Virginian  and  other  colonial  officers,  by  reducing  the 
entire  force  of  his  own  province  to  a  series  of  independent  companies, 
which  action  left  no  military  office  higher  than  that  of  captain  to  be  filled. 
Hence  Washington  had  the  alternative  of  accepting  a  captain's  commission, 
which  placed  him  under  the  command  of  the  rawest  captain  of  the  regular 
service  who  chanced  to  cross  his  way  or  of  resigning  from  the  army.  He 
chose  the  latter  course,  and  retired  to  Mount  Vernon,  expecting  to  devote 
himself  entirely  to  his  private  affairs.  Another  cause  of  his  displeasure  was 
the  discovery  that  the  French  officers  captured  during  the  campaign,  and 
whom  he  had  particularly  recommended  to  the  courtesy  of  the  Governor, 
had  been  treated  with  shameful  indignity,  confined  in  prison  like  common 
criminals,  and  that  La  Force,  who  had  escaped  and  been  recaptured,  was, 
upon  his  return,  fettered  and  chained  to  the  floor  of  his  cell.  According  to 
the  terms  of  the  capitulation  at  Fort  Necessity,  Washington  had  pledged 
the  immediate  release  of  these  prisoners,  their  safe  return  to  the  fort, 
and  had  left  two  of  his  officers  with  De  Villiers  as  hostages.  In 
spite  of  all  these  facts,  and  the  clear  obligation  resting  in  honor  upon  Vir 
ginia,  Dinwiddie,  with  an  obstinacy  and  disregard  of  all  military  rule  that 
frequently  marked  his  conduct,  refused  to  carry  out  the  pledge  of  his 
officer.  Washington  was  sought  out  at  Mount  Vernon  by  many  friends 
and  public  men,  who  hoped  to  devise  some  plan  by  which  his  services 
might  be  preserved  to  the  province  without  loss  of  dignity  on  his  part. 
The  Governor  of  Maryland,  appointed  by  the  king  commander  in  chief  of 
his  majesty's  forces  engaged  against  the  French  in  America,  offered  him  a 
colonel's  commission  with  the  pay  and  duties  of  a  major.  All  these  over, 
tures  and  offers  were,  however,  rejected  with  simple  dignity,  and,  for  the 
time,  his  retirement  from  military  life  seemed  likely  to  be  permanent. 


THE   BRADDOCK    EXPEDITION. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

THE    BRADDOCK     EXPEDITION. 

T^HE  report  of  Washington's  campaign  had  aroused  the  English  cabinet 
to  an  appreciation  of  the  dangers  that  threatened  British  interests  in 
America.  Measures  were  taken  to  equip  and  dispatch  a  force  sufficient  to 
settle  at  once  and  forever  the  controversy  in  favor  of  England.  The 
plan  of  operations  in  America  had  a  four- fold  object,  being  directed  to 
the  expulsion  of  the  French  from  Nova  Scotia;  from  their  position  on 
Lake  Champlain ;  from  Fort  Niagara,  and  from  the  Ohio  valley.  Major- 
general  Edwin  Braddock  was  appointed  commander  in  chief  of  all  forces  in 
America,  and  elected  to  take  personal  charge  of  the  expedition  to  the 
borders  of  Pennsylvania  and  Virginia,  primarily  directed  at  Fort  Duquesne. 
For  this  service  two  English  regiments,  of  five  hundred  men  each,  were 
landed  at  Alexandria,  and  with  them  came  a  large  train  of  artillery  and  a 
superfluity  of  stores  and  baggage.  Each  of  these  regiments  was  to  be 
increased  by  the  addition  of  two  hundred  Virginia  recruits,  and  the  whole 
supplemented  by  as  large  and  efficient  an  Indian  contingent  as  could  be 
obtained. 

Soon  after  his  arrival  in  America,  General  Braddock,  having  heard 
much  of  the  competency  and  experience  of  Washington,  sent  an  invitation 
to  the  young  provincial  to  become  a  member  of  his  staff.  Although  the 
place  offered  neither  pay  nor  command  to  Washington,  he  could  not  resist 
accepting  it,  as  it  promised  so  rich  an  opportunity  for  studying  the  art  of 
war,  as  practiced  by  those  with  whom  war  was  a  trade.  Then,  too,  the 
spirit  which  animated  the  old  DC  Wessyngtons,  in  their  border  service, 
seemed  revived  in  him.  Gunpowder  and  arms  allured  him  with  the  fascina 
tion  that  the  drawing  room  and  dancing  hall  have  for  other  men. 

It  is  not  the  purpose  of  this  narrative  to  follow  either  the  preparation 
or  prosecution  of  the  Braddock  campaign,  but  simply  to  give  such  details 
as  may  have  a  direct  bearing  upon  the  life  and  reputation  of  Washington. 


40  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

Yet  a  few  words  as  to  General  Braddock's  personal  peculiarities  may  not  be 
amiss,  for  to  them,  more  than  to  any  other  reasons,  may  be  ascribed  the  dis 
astrous  result  of  what  might  otherwise  have  been  a  brilliantly  successful 
expedition.  General  Braddock  was,  by  nature  and  training,  a  martinet; 
his  especial  standing  in  the  English  army  was  due  to  his  reputation  as  a  dis 
ciplinarian ;  he  believed, — as  did  many  others,  until  the  American  revolution 
proved  their  mistake, — that,  against  provincial  levies  and  Indian  auxiliaries, 
alike,  the  British  regular  was  invincible.  He  believed  that  a  mountain  cam 
paign  in  America  would  succeed,  if  conducted  on  the  principles  applied  in 
holiday  manoeuvres  in  Hyde  Park.  The  contempt  which  he  felt  for  pro 
vincials  and  Indians  could  not  be  limited  to  his  enemies;  provincials  and 
Indians  were  a  portion  of  his  own  force.  This  undervaluation  of  American 
auxiliaries  led  him  to  reject  offers  of  service  from  white  scouts,  and  to 
ignore  the  counsels  of  Indian  allies,  thus  offending  both,  and  losing  an 
effective  defensive  arm,  that  would  have  protected  his  force  from  disastrous 
surprise,  and  perhaps  have  allowed  him  to  dictate  the  terms  of  battle  with 
the  French  at  Duquesne,  as  he  might  have  done  at  Versailles,  had  his  service 
led  him  thither.  It  was  to  such  a  general  that  Washington,  the  practical 
and  experienced,  but  unscientific  young  officer,  was  attached. 

From  the  first,  the  young  Virginian,  undazzled  by  the  magnificent  mili 
tary  display  and  perfect  drill  of  the  regulars,  was  appalled  at  the  plan  of 
operations  adopted.  In  spite  of  the  fact  that  a  practicable  military  road 
had  been  made,  during  the  previous  year,  extending  from  the  eastern  base 
of  the  Alleghanies  almost  to  Fort  Duquesne,  Braddock  insisted  upon  pro 
ceeding  by  a  different  route,  and  making  a  road  as  he  went.  Although  his 
march  must  necessarily  extend,  a  slender  line,  four  miles  in  length,  through 
a  densely  wooded,  steep,  and  difficult  country — though  he  was  advised  by 
those  fitter  to  judge  than  he  that  he  would  be  constantly  dogged  and 
menaced  by  bands  of  Indians,  and  that  his  line  was,  at  any  time,  liable  to 
be  attacked  and  cut  from  an  ambuscade,  he  insisted  upon  proceeding  as  if 
he  were  conducting  an  expedition  in  the  heart  of  civilized  Europe;  rejected 
the  advice  of  Benjamin  Franklin,  Washington,  and  others ;  refused  to  effect 
the  curtailment  of  his  line  by  ordering  his  officers  to  diminish  their  baggage 
to  the  actual  essentials  of  the  campaign,  and  rejected — almost  repulsed — 
the  offers  of  assistance  from  whites  and  Indians,  who  would,  as  has  been 
said,  if  invited  to  serve,  have  protected  his  flanks  and  allowed  him  to  form 
his  troops  before  the  French  fort,  with  all  the  formality  dear  to  his  heart. 

Braddock  marched  from  Alexandria  on  the  2Oth  of  April ;  reaching  Fort 
Cumberland,  he  remained  until  the  2Oth  of  June,  awaiting  transportation  for 
his  baggage  and  equipage— then  he  set  out,  dragging  along  at  a  snail's  pace, 
his  four  thousand  men  finding  it  impossible  to  make  much  headway  against 
the  difficulties  of  mountain  road  making.  Before  long  the  general  was  com 
pelled  to  swallow  his  pride  and  appeal  to  Washington  for  advice.  This 


THE    BRADDOCK    EXPEDITION.  41 

Washington  modestly  gave.  The  garrison  of  the  fort  was  known  to  be 
weak,  and  French  reinforcements  were  supposed  to  be  coming.  *He  urged 
that  twelve  hundred  men  be  detached,  stripped  of  all  impedimenta,  and 
advanced  by  forced  marches,  to  strike  an  effective  blow  at  the  fort  before 
its  defense  could  be  strengthened.  The  remainder  of  the  force,  guarding 
the  baggage  and  supplies,  could  follow,  and  be  on  the  ground  in  time  to 
resist  any  retaliatory  attack. 

On  the  i  pth  of  June,  the  advance  expedition  set  out;  but,  in  equipment 
and  spirit,  it  was  little  calculated  to  succeed ;  the  officers  could  not  be 
induced  to  greatly  diminish  the  amount  of  their  baggage,  and  it  was,  conse 
quently,  not  much  less  cumbrous  than  that  of  the  united  force  had  been. 
Washington  wrote  of  the  affair,  after  it  was  over:  "I  found  that,  instead  of 
pushing  with  vigor,  without  regarding  a  little  rough  road,  they  were  halting 
to  level  every  molehill,  and  to  build  bridges  over  every  brook,  by  which 
means  we  were  four  days  in  getting  twelve  miles."  General  Braddock 
commanded  this  advance  in  person,  and  it  was  with  great  regret  that 
Washington,  who  had  been  ill  for  nearly  a  week,  and  compelled  by 
weakness  to  leave  his  horse  and  ride  in  a  wagon,  succumbed  to  the  hard 
ship  of  these  arduous  twelve  miles,  and  dropped  out  of  the  line  to  await 
the  arrival  of  the  rear  guard,  and  to  obtain  the  medical  treatment  and 
the  rest  that  he  felt  to  be  essential  to  his  recovery.  A  guard  and  a  physician 
were  left  with  him,  and  he  obtained  a  promise  from  Braddock  that  he  should 
be  brought  up  with  the  advance,  in  time  to  participate  in  any  attack  that 
might  be  made  upon  Fort  Duquesne. 

The  illness  of  Washington  continued,  and  it  was  not  until  the  3d 
day  of  July  that  he  was  deemed  sufficiently  mended  to  set  out  in  an  army 
wagon  with  the  advance  force  of  the  rear  guard,  which  had  just  come  up. 
Even  this  long  delay  did  not,  however,  prevent  his  reaching  Braddock's 
immediate  force  before  its  snail-like  march  was  quite  ended.  The  detachment 
had  been  a  month  on  the  march,  and  had  traveled  but  little  more  than  a  hun 
dred  miles,  when  Washington  rejoined  his  general  on  the  8th  of  July,  at  his 
camp  on  the  east  bank  of  the  Monongahela,  and  fifteen  miles  from  Fort 
Duquesne.  It  had  already  been  determined  to  attack  the  fort  as  soon  as  the 
troops  could  be  sent  forward  for  the  purpose,  and  the  morning  of  the  follow 
ing  day — the  9th — was  set  for  the  advance.  Thus  Washington  was  just  in 
time  to  participate  in  the  expected  attack,  and,  though  weak  from  long 
illness  and  his  trying  wagon  trip,  he  was  early  in  the  saddle,  and  reported 
for  duty.  The  plan  of  Braddock  was  to  move  his  men  by  a  ford  near  the 
camp,  to  the  west  bank  of  the  river,  march  some  five  miles  down  the  stream 
and  recross  by  a  second  ford.  The  advance  was  ordered  forward  before 
daylight  to  cover  the  second  ford  while  the  main  body  should  cross.  The 
men  moved  off,  as  if  for  a  parade,  marching  in  a  long  and  entirely 
unguarded  line — their  colors  flying  and  band  playing.  Washington  could 


42  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

not  conceive  that  the  wily  French  would  allow  a  superior  force  to  approach 
and  attack  them  in  order,  when  there  existed  so  good  an  opportunity  for 
crippling  or  destroying  it  as  was  presented  by  this  line  of  advance. 
Hence  he  urged — almost  implored — Braddock  in  some  manner  to  protect  his 
flanks ;  to  at  least  throw  out  scouts  and  to  guard  against  surprise.  All  was, 
however,  in  vain.  Braddock  could  not  bend  his  pride  to  accept  so  much  as 
a  suggestion,  in  the  face  of  a  battle,  from  a  young  provincial  officer ;  hence 
the  line  moved  gaily  forward,  as  confident  of  success,  as  fearless  of  danger, 
as  any  body  of  men  that  ever  advanced  to  battle.  The  crossing  of  the 
army  consumed  the  entire  morning.  About  I  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  it 
was  completed,  and  the  advance  toward  Duquesne  began.  The  British 
force  was  divided  into  three  sections,  first,  the  working  party  and  advance 
guard,  protected  by  four  small  flanking  parties;  then,  some  distance  behind, 
the  main  body  of  regulars,  commanded  by  Braddock  in  person ;  last,  the 
Virginians  and  other  provincials.  The  march  was  but  just  begun,  when  the 
advance  guard,  while  passing  along  a  portion  of  the  road  bordered  on 
one  side  by  the  river,  on  the  other  skirted  by  a  heavily  wooded  hill, 
was  startled,  first  by  a  succession  of  yells,  then  by  a  most  deadly  fire, 
coming  from  unseen  enemies,  among  the  woods  on  the  right.  Washington's 
fears  of  an  ambuscade  had  been  justified.  The  English  at  first  held  their 
ground  well ;  a  file  of  French  and  Indians  advancing  in  order  gave 
them  encouragement ;  they  were  ready  enough  to  fight  an  enemy  whom 
they  could  see  and  measure.  They  fired  upon  the  advancing  line,  and  the 
young  officer  commanding  it  fell  at  the  first  volley.  Meantime  the  fire 
from  the  hidden  Indians  in  the  woods,  and  the  terrible  uproar  that  accom 
panied  it,  grew  worse  and  worse.  Gage,  commanding  the  advance,  formed 
his  men  on  the  road  and  ordered  a  charge  to  dislodge  the  Indians,  if  such 
were  possible ;  the  soldiers,  brave  as  they  were  at  warfare  of  their  own 
kind,  would  not  advance  a  step  to  meet  what  seemed  to  them  the  certainty 
of  death.  The  order  of  battle  gave  the  Indian  sharpshooters  every  advan 
tage,  and  it  seemed  that  scarcely  a  shot  failed  of  effect.  A  body  of  men 
was  sent  on  to  reinforce  the  advance  guard,  of  which  nearly  every  officer 
and  the  majority  of  the  men  were  killed  or  wounded.  While  this  effort  to 
form  the  reinforcements  was  making,  the  advance  guard  broke  and  fled  in 
the  wildest  confusion,  falling  back  upon  the  other  force  and  throwing  them 
out  of  all  order  and  beyond  the  possibility  of  control. 

At  this  point  Braddock  came  up,  and,  under  his  orders,  a  renewed 
effort  was  made  to  rally  and  form  the  men,  and  make  an  advance  upon  the 
enemy,  but  it  failed  in  turn.  The  soldiers  were  hopelessly  panic-stricken, 
and  huddled  together  to  be  shot  down  by  the  score.  The  Virginia  troops, 
nearly  all  experienced  in  Indian  warfare,  dispersed  behind  trees  and  rocks, 
to  meet  the  enemy  after  their  own  fashion,  thus  serving  as  the  only  protec 
tion  to  the  miserable  regulars.  Within  a  short  time  alter  the  battle  began, 


THE    BRADDOCK    EXPEDITION.  43 

only  Washington  of  all  Braddock's  aides  remained  alive  and  unwounded. 
He  was  everywhere,  carrying  orders,  encouraging,  directing.  He  strove 
to  induce  Braddock  to  order  the  men  to  imitate  the  Virginians  and  fight 
from  cover,  but  even  in  the  midst  of  the  awful  scene  about  him,  the 
commander's  ideas  of  discipline  revolted  at  the  thought,  and  he  refused  to 
accede,  driving  back  with  his  own  sword  those  about  him  who  attempted 
such  expedient  independently.  Washington  showed  the  greatest  coolness. 
Moving,  as  he  did,  on  horseback,  he  was  a  marked  man  for  the  sharp 
shooters;  two  horses  were  killed  under  him,  his  hat  and  coat  were  pierced 
by  bullets,  and  not  another  mounted  officer  escaped  death  or  wounding, 
yet  he  was  untouched.  Dr.  Craik  says  of  him,  in  his  diary  of  the  cam 
paign:  "I  expected  at  every  moment  to  see  him  fall.  His  duty  and  situ 
ation  exposed  him  to  every  danger.  Nothing  but  the  superintending  care 
of  Providence  could  have  saved  him  from  the  fate  of  all  about  him." 

Braddock  made  the  last  and  only  atonement  in  his  power,  for  the  obsti 
nacy  and  folly  that  had  brought  the  disgrace  and  disaster  of  the  day  upon 
the  English  arms.  He  fought  like  a  hero;  from  his  place,  at  the  central 
point  of  danger,  he  put  forward  every  effort  within  his  power  to  rally  the 
men  and  save  the  day.  All  was  in  vain,  and  he  must  have  seen  the  hope 
lessness  of  his  efforts  before — having  previously  lost  three  horses  in  the 
fight — he  fell,  mortally  shot  through  the  lungs.  Let  Irving  tell  what  fol 
lowed:  "The  rout  now  became  complete;  baggage,  stores,  artillery,  every 
thing  was  abandoned.  The  wagoners  took  each  a  horse  out  of  his  team  and 
fled.  The  officers  were  swept  off  with  the  men  in  this  headlong  flight.  It 
was  rendered  more  precipitate  by  the  shouts  and  yells  of  the  savages,  num 
bers  of  whom  rushed  forth  from  their  coverts,  and  pursued  the  fugitives  to 
the  river  side,  killing  several,  as  they  dashed  across  in  tumultous  confu 
sion.  Fortunately  for  the  latter,  the  victors  gave  up  the  pursuit  in  their 
eagerness  to  collect  the  spoil." 

Beyond  the  river  a  little  body  of  men,  more  reasonable  than  their  fellows, 
were  halted  about  the  dying  general  and  his  wounded  aides-de-camp. 
An  attempt  was  made  to  form  a  camp  at  that  point,  throw  up  entrench 
ments  and  await  reinforcement  by  the  rear  guard,  which,  with  the  heavier 
baggage  and  artillery,  had  not  yet  come  up.  No  sooner,  however,  were  the 
men  posted  and  an  attempt  at  restoring  discipline  made,  than  one  by  one 
they  deserted,  until  the  few  faithful  ones  were  obliged  to  join  the  retreat, 
bearing  the  wounded  with  them. 

The  force  engaged  in  the  battle  on  the  side  of  the  British  was  eighty-six 
officers  and  about  twelve  hundred  men.  Of  these,  twenty-six  officers  were 
killed  and  thirty-six  wounded,  and  of  the  rank  and  file  about  seven  hundred 
were  killed  or  wounded.  Washington  being  among  the  few  unwounded 
officers,  and  knowing  very  thoroughly  the  country  over  which  the  army 
nad  recently  passed,  was  directed  to  hasten  to  Captain  Dunbar's  camp, 


44  GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 

forty  miles  distant,  obtain  men,  wagons,  and  supplies,  and  return  with 
all  haste.  He  found  the  camp  in  confusion,  the  news  of  the  disaster 
having  been  conveyed  by  the  flying  wagoners.  Order  being  restored,  his 
directions  were  carried  into  effect,  and  he  set  out  at  early  morning  of  the  fol 
lowing  day,  and  met  the  escort  at  a  point  but  thirteen  miles  from  the  camp. 
Turning  about,  the  sad  cavalcade  moved  to  Great  Meadows  where,  on  the 
1 3th,  Braddock  died. 

No  campaign  was  ever  so  recklessly  conducted ;  few  more  crushing  and 
irreparable  defeats  of  a  disciplined  force,  by  one  much  less  in  number,  are 
recorded ;  there  is  no  question  that  Braddock,  had  he  been  content  to 
accept  advice,  and  make  the  necessary  departure  from  formal  military  rule, 
might  have  averted  it  all,  and  raised  the  British  flag  over  Fort  Duquesne, 
with  little  loss,  instead  of  resting  in  an  unmarked  grave,  hastily  hollowed  and 
filled  by  the  flying  soldiers.  Yet  the  fault  was  by  no  means  all  his  own. 
Much  of  the  responsibility  should  rest  upon  the  ignorance  and  obstinacy  of 
the  English  cabinet  ;  ingnorance  in  the  war  office  of  what  the  smallest  reflec 
tion  should  have  made  evident,  that  the  methods  of  a  campaign  in  the  wilds 
of  America  must  be  adapted  to  the  conditions  of  the  country  and  the  man 
ner  of  warfare  which  the  enemy  might  adopt.  Braddock  received  the  com 
mand  because  he  was  deemed  a  fine  disciplinarian  and  a  master  of  the 
theory  of  European  warfare ;  he  died  a  defeated  and  broken-hearted  man, 
because  he  was  too  good  a  disciplinarian  and  too  accomplished  a  theorist  to 
fight  with  savages,  who  knew  no  discipline,  and  confounded  his  theory. 
Another  potent  agent  in  compassing  his  defeat  was  the  contempt  in  which, 
in  common  with  all  regulars  fresh  in  the  American  service,  he  held  alike 
the  assistance  and  enmity  of  provincials  and  Indians.  He  shared  the 
belief  which  generations  of  ballads  and  after  dinner  speeches  had  made 
almost  a  part  of  the  religion  of  his  people — that  the  British  sailor  on  the  sea, 
and  the  British  soldier  on  the  land,  were  invincible.  This  belief,  then  so 
rudely  assailed,  was  destined  to  meet  with  many  a  shock  within  the  follow 
ing  sixty  years,  yet  after  a  century  it  had  not  ceased  to  be  in  a  manner  a 
portion  of  the  national  creed,  as  exhibited  in  the  campaigns  in  Afghanistan 
and  Zululand. 

After  the  death  of  Braddock,  the  command  of  the  force  devolved 
upon  Colonel  Dunbar  and  he,  collecting  the  mangled  and  disorganized  rem 
nants  of  the  regular  regiments,  marched  them  at  midsummer  to  Philadel 
phia  where  they  went  into  "winter  quarters."  The  Virginians,  or  such  oi 
them  as  survived  the  disaster,  returned  to  Fort  Cumberland,  and  thence  to 
Winchester. 

Washington  had  imbibed  a  sovereign  contempt  for  the  English  officers, 
during  their  march  across  the  mountains  ;  he  could  not  conceive  how  such 
Jevotion  to  personal  appearance  and  comfort ;  such  levity  and  vanity  as 
they  showed,  could  be  consistent  with  bravery  and  efficiency  in  the  field. 


THE    BRADDOCK    EXPEDITION.  45 

This  opinion  he  entirely  changed,  after  witnessing  the  heroic  demeanor  of 
these  very  dandies  and  bon  vivants,  upon  the  Monongahela.  Of  the  rank 
and  file  he  could  not,  however,  afterwards  speak  with  patience,  and  with 
his  words  concerning  their  behavior  at  the  battle,  this  chapter  and  the 
history  of  the  campaign  may  appropriately  close:  "They  were  struck  with 
such  an  inconceivable  panic, "  he  wrote  Governor  Dinwiddie,  "that  noth 
ing  but  confusion  and  disobedience  of  orders  prevailed  among  them.  The 
officers,  in  general,  behaved  with  incomparable  bravery,  for  which  they 
greatly  suffered,  there  being  upwards  of  sixty  killed  and  wounded — a  large 
proportion  out  of  what  we  had.  The  Virginia  companies  behaved  like  men 
and  died  like  soldiers,  for,  I  believe,  out  of  three  companies  on  the  ground 
that  day,  scarce  thirty  men  were  left  alive.  Captain  Peronny  and  all  his 
officers,  down  to  a  corporal,  were  killed.  Captain  Poulson  had  almost  as 
hard  a  fate,  for  only  one  of  his  escaped.  In  short,  the  dastardly  behavior 
of  the  regular  troops  (so-called)  exposed  those  who  were  inclined  to 
do  their  duty  to  almost  certain  death ;  and,  at  length,  in  spite  of  every 
effort  to  the  contrary,  they  broke  and  ran  as  sheep  before  the  hounds,  leav 
ing  the  artillery,  ammunition,  provisions,  baggage,  and,  in  short,  everything, 
a  prey  to  the  enemy;  and,  when  we  endeavored  to  rally  them,  in  hopes  of 
regaining  the  ground,  and  what  we  had  left  upon  it,  it  was  with  as 
little  success  as  if  we  had  attempted  to  have  stopped  the  wild  beasts  of 
the  mountains,  or  the  rivulets,  with  our  feet;  for  they  would  break  by  in 
spite  of  every  effort  to  prevent  it." 


46  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

TO  THE  FALL  OF  FORT  DUQUESNE. 

WASHINGTON,  returning  to  his  home,  was  received  with  every 
mark  of  confidence  and  honor  by  the  House  of  Burgesses  and  the 
people.  He  had  before  been  regarded  as  the  foremost  soldier  of  Virginia, 
and  the  bravery  and  discretion  displayed  by  him,  during  the  Braddock  cam 
paign,  had  convinced  the  people  that,  had  his  counsel  been  accepted,  the 
result  would  have  been  far  different,  and  thus  he  was  confirmed  in  their 
esteem.  It  was  evident  that  steps  must  be  immediately  taken  to  protect 
the  frontier,  exposed,  as  it  was,  by  this  second  defeat,  to  the  depredations  of 
both  French  and  Indians,  and  the  House  of  Burgesses,  now  thoroughly 
aroused,  made  provision  for  the  raising  of  a  force  of  one  thousand  six  hun 
dred  men.  Washington  was  made  commander  in  chief  of  all  the  military 
force  of  the  Province  of  Virginia,  with  the  unusual  and  especially  conceded 
privilege  of  naming  his  own  field  officers.  Making  arrangements  for  an 
efficient  recruiting  service,  he  at  once  proceeded  to  the  frontier,  to  mature  a 
plan  by  which,  with  the  slender  force  at  his  command,  he  might  protect  the 
settlers  and  repel  the  invading  enemy,  along  the  nearly  four  hundred 
miles  of  wild  and  exposed  border.  He  was  none  too  soon.  Before  he 
had  reached  the  seat  of  government,  on  his  return  from  this  inspection, 
he  was  overtaken  by  a  messenger  who  bore  news  that  a  band  of  Indians  had 
crossed  the  mountains  and  was  burning,  robbing,  murdering,  and  scalping, 
throughout  the  newly  populated  regions  beyond  the  Blue  Ridge.  Dis 
patching  word  to  his  recruiting  officers  to  send  on  their  men  with  all 
haste  to  Winchester,  Washington  himself  hastened  to  that  place,  which  he 
found  given  over  to  panic  and  confusion.  But  few  troops  were  in  the  dis 
trict,  and  they,  too  weak  to  proceed  against  the  enemy,  were  blockaded  in 
their  <-»Wn  forts.  No  effort  could  induce  the  militia  to  rendezvous  and  obtain 
safety  by  a  united  defense ;  each  thought  only  of  himself  or  his  family,  and 
hastened  to  join  the  terror-stricken  stampede  to  the  eastward.  A  most 


TO    THE    FALL    OF    FORT    DUQUESNE.  47 

pressing  request  to  the  militia  commanders  on  the  east  of  the  Blue  Ridge, 
that  they  should  send  their  men  to  protect  the  settlements  on  the  frontier, 
was  so  tardily  answered  that,  before  a  blow  could  be  struck,  the  marauders 
had  recrossed  the  mountains  laden  with  scalps  and  plunder,  and  leaving  the 
valley  behind  them  almost  totally  desolate.  It  is  not  the  purpose  of  this 
biography  to  follow  minutely  the  history  of  Washington's  connection  with 
the  Virginia  forces,  as  commander  in  chief.  Dinwiddie  had  been  com 
pelled,  by  public  opinion,  to  appoint  him  to  the  place,  when  he  would  have 
preferred  to  name  a  personal  friend  of  his  own.  For  this  or  some  other 
reason,  the  administration  of  the  province  was  always  slow  in  supporting 
him.  The  words  of  his  own  letter  to  a  friend  give  the  best  possible  idea  of 
his  situation.  In  speaking  of  this  misunderstanding  he  says  :  "Whence  it 
arises,  or  why,  I  am  truly  ignorant,  but  my  strongest  representations  of 
matters  relative  to  the  peace  of  the  frontiers  are  disregarded  as  idle  and 
frivolous  ;  my  propositions  and  measures,  as  partial  and  selfish  ;  all  my  sin- 
cerest  endeavors  for  the  service  of  my  country,  perverted  to  the  worst  pur 
poses.  My  orders  arc  dark,  doubtful,  and  uncertain  ;  to-day  approved, 
to-morrow  condemned  ;  left  to  act  and  proceed  at  hazard  ;  accountable  for 
the  consequences,  and  blamed  without  the  benefit  of  a  defence. 

However,  I  am  determined  to  bear  up  under  all  these  embarrass 
ments  some  time  longer,  in  the  hope  of  better  regulations,  under  Lord  Lon 
don,  to  whom  I  look  for  the  future  fate  of  Virginia." 

Washington's  theory  as  to  the  most  promising  method  of  defending 
the  frontier  against  the  incursions  of  the  Indians,  to-day  seems  so  unques 
tionably  the  only  practicable  one,  that  we  wonder  how  even  jealousy  could 
have  failed  of  stamping  it  with  instant  approval.  The  original  force  pro 
posed  to  be  raised,  previous  to  his  assumption  of  the  command,  was  one 
thousand  six  hundred  troops  ;  in  fact,  the  effective  troops  nev<jr  exceeded 
one  thousand  two  hundred  in  number,  and  often  fell  as  low  as  seven  hun 
dred.  With  this  handful  of  men,  the  Governor  insisted  upon  maintaining  a 
defensive  warfare  along  a  frontier  three  hundred  and  sixty  miles  long. 
Washington  maintained  that  success,  under  such  circumstances,  was  not 
even  to  be  hoped  for.  Fort  Duquesne,  at  that  time  the  centre  of  the  French 
force,  and  consequently  of  Indian  disaffection  in  the  Ohio  valley,  was  but 
slenderly  garrisoned.  The  French  were  too  seriously  menaced  in  Canada 
and  Nova  Scotia  to  render  its  reinforcement  likely ;  their  vessels,  bearing 
provisions  and  ammunition,  were  constantly  cut  off  by  British  men-of-war  and 
privateers,  and  everything  seemed  to  promise  success  to  a  sharp,  active,  and 
determined  movement  against  it.  Duquesne  once  cut  off,  there  would  be 
no  point  south  of  Lake  Erie  from  which  the  French  could  offensively  oper 
ate,  or  could  move  to  retain  their  influence  with  the  Indians.  Across  the 
Alleghanies,  Braddock's  military  road  was  still  in  good  condition,  and  a 
movement  could  be  made  which  would,  in  three  days,  place  a  force  of  one 


48  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

thousand  five  hundred  men  before  the  fort,  with  eighty-six  days'  provisions, 
opposed  to  only  about  half  that  number,  including  French  and  Indians,  and 
they  poorly  equipped  and  short  of  supplies.  A  movement  of  such  a  force 
across  the  mountains  could  scarcely  fail  of  the  destruction  of  the  French 
power  on  the  Ohio,  but  even  if  it  did  not  so  result,  it  would  absolutely  neces 
sitate  the  recall  of  the  Indians  who  were  ravaging  the  borders  of  Pennsyl 
vania  and  Virginia,  and  would  thus,  by  one  concentrated  expedition,  result 
in  accomplishing  what  was  contemplated  in  the  raising  of  the  Virginian 
army,  while  promising  still  more  important  advantages.  This  was  Wash 
ington's  view.  Dinwiddie,  however,  insisted  upon  maintaining  his  policy  of 
defensive  action.  The  commander  in  chief  then  begged  for  two  thousand 
men,  saying  that,  with  them  he  could  build  and  maintain  a  chain  of  twenty- 
two  forts  across  the  frontier,  manning  each  with  about  eighty  men,  and 
could,  in  a  measure  at  least,  prevent  the  inroads  of  the  savages.  With  seven 
hundred  or  one  thousand  two  hundred  men  he  declared  that  but  one  result 
could  be  looked  for — that,  the  driving  of  all  English  settlements  eastward, 
the  destruction  of  houses  and  villages,  the  murder  of  settlers,  until  the 
Blue  Ridge  should  be  once  more  the  western  frontier  of  English  settle 
ment.  Washington's  predictions  proved  to  be  correct;  incursion  followed 
incursion ;  the  valleys  between  the  Blue  Ridge  and  the  Alleghanies  were 
again  and  again  ravaged,  until  the  settlers,  despairing  of  succor  from  Vir 
ginia,  whence  they  had  reason  to  expect  it,  were  glad  to  give  up  everything 
but  life,  and  fly  to  the  safety  of  the  more  populous  East.  At  Winchester 
a  few  of  the  bolder  settlers  remained ;  there  were  troops  in  the  scattered 
garrisons,  and  Lord  Fairfax  continued,  like  a  feudal  noble  of  the  middle 
ages,  to  maintain  his  establishment  by  arming  his  servants  ;  aside  from  these 
exceptions  the  whole  region  was  desolate. 

The  coming  of  Lord  Loudoun,  who  was  at  once  Governor  of  Virginia 
and  commander  in  chief  of  all  military  forces  in  the  colonies,  did  not,  as 
Washington  had  hoped,  improve  the  condition  of  affairs.  The  new  Governor 
had  determined  to  concentrate  all  his  strength  in  an  effort  to  reduce  the 
French  power  in  Canada,  leaving  only  a  pitiful  force  of  twelve  hundred 
men  for  the  protection  of  all  the  Southern  colonies.  So  far  from  being 
better  equipped  for  self-protection,  Virginia  was  impoverished  by  a  requi 
sition,  catling  upon  her  to  furnish  four  hundred  men  for  service  in  South 
Carolina.  So  matters  continued  until,  early  in  the  year  1758,  Lord  Loudoun 
gave  place,  as  commander  in  chief,  to  General  Abercrombie ;  the  office  of 
Lieutenant-governor  was  temporarily  held  by  Mr.  John  Blair,  a  warm  friend 
of  Washington ;  Brigadier-general  Forbes  assumed  command  of  the  southern 
department,  including  Virginia,  and,  above  all,  William  Pitt,  that  great,  wise, 
and  fearless  statesman,  was  prime  minister  of  England.  Washington 
believed  that  an  aggressive  policy  might  at  last  be  expected,  and  awaited 
with  impatience  the  first  indication  from  which  the  plans  of  the  new  admin- 


TO   THE    FALL   OF    FORT    DUQUESNE.  49 

tstration  might  be  inferred.  Such  an  intimation  was  not  long  in  coming 
and,  in  May  of  that  year,  Washington  received  orders  to  assemble  his 
entire  available  force  at  Winchester.  This,  after  the  invariable  annoyances 
arising  from  a  lack  of  funds,  arms,  and  supplies,  he  succeeded  in  doing, 
when  he  was  chagrined,  beyond  measure,  to  learn  that  his  commander  had 
determined,  in  spite  of  the  existence  of  the  practicable  road  opened  by 
Braddock,  to  move  to  Fort  Duquesnc  by  a  new  route,  across  the  moun 
tains,  every  mile  of  which  would  necessarily  be  cut  through  an  unbroken 
forest,  every  considerable  stream  bridged,  and  the  prospect  of  reaching 
the  objective  point  of  the  expedition  before  the  setting  in  of  winter,  reduced 
to  the  merest  shadow.  Colonel  Bouquet,  the  second  in  command,  wrote  to 
Washington  for  advice  in  the  matter,  and  received  in  return  a  modest,  yet 
plain  statement  of  opinion,  of  which  the  following  is  a  portion : 

"  I  shall  most  cheerfully  work  on  any  road,  pursue  any  route,  or  enter 
upon  any  service  that  the  general  or  yourself  may  think  me  usefully 
employed  in,  or  qualified  for  ;  and  shall  never  have  a  will  of  my  own,  when 
a  duty  is  required  of  me.  But,  since  you  desire  me  to  speak  my  senti 
ments  freely,  permit  me  to  observe  that,  after  having  conversed  with  all  the 
guides,  and  having  been  informed  by  others  acquainted  with  the  country,  I 
am  convinced  that  a  road  to  be  compared  with  General  Braddock's,  or, 
indeed,  that  will  be  fit  for  transportation,  even  with  pack-horses,  cannot  be 
made.  I  own  I  have  no  predilection  for  the  road  you  have  in  contempla 
tion  for  me."  In  spite  of  Washington's  warmest  protestations  and  argu 
ments,  the  English  officers  remained  immovably  determined  in  carrying  on 
the  campaign  in  their  own  way.  The  young  provincial  was  justly  indignant 
at  the  stupidity  that  could  deliberately  choose  failure,  where  success  was  so 
easy,  and  at  the  obstinacy  that  clung  to  a  fallacy,  after  it  had  been  fully 
exposed.  In  a  letter,  written  from  Fort  Cumberland,  during  the  month  of 
September,  he  betrayed  his  feelings  on  the  subject  with  unwonted  freedom. 
He  said:  "  We  arc  still  encamped  here,  very  sickly  and  desperate  at  the 
prospect  before  us.  That  appearance  of  glory  which  we  once  had  in  view 
— that  hope — that  laudable  ambition  of  serving  our  country  and  meriting  its 
applause,  are  now  no  more  ;  all  is  dwindled  into  ease,  sloth,  and  fatal  inac 
tivity.  In  a  word,  all  is  lost,  if  the  ways  of  men  in  power,  like  certain 
ways  of  Providence,  are  not  inscrutable.  But  we,  who  view  the  actions  of 
great  men  at  a  distance,  can  only  form  conjectures  agreeably  to  a  limited 
perception  ;  and  being  ignorant  of  the  comprehensive  schemes  which  may 
be  in  contemplation,  might  mistake  egregiously  in  judging  of  things  from 
appearances  or  by  the  lump.  Yet  every  fool  will  have  his  notions — will 
prattle  and  talk  away  ;  and  why  may  not  I  ?  We  seem  then,  in  my  opinion, 
to  act  under  guidance  of  an  evil  genius.  The  condu  ct  of  our  leaders,  if 
not  actuated  by  superior  orders,  is  tempered  with  something  I  do  not  care 
to  give  a  name  to.  Nothing  now  but  a  miracle  can  bring  this  campaign  to 


IJO  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

a  happy  issue. "     Washington's  letter  then  rehearses  his  opposition  to  the 
scheme  for  the  building  of  a  new  road,  and  concludes  as  follows;     " 

.  but  I  spoke  unavailingly  ;  the  road  was  immediately  begun,  and, 
since  then,  from  one  to  two  thousand  men  have  constantly  wrought  upon  it. 
By  the  last  accounts  I  have  received,  they  have  cut  to  the  foot  of  Laurel 
Hill,  about  thirty-five  miles ;  and,  I  suppose,  by  this  time,  fifteen  hundred 
men  have  taken  post  ten  miles  farther,  at  a  place  called  Loyal  Hanna, 
where  our  next  fort  is  to  be  constructed.  We  have  certain  intelligence 
that  the  French  strength  at  Fort  Duquesne  did  not  exceed  eight  hundred 
men  on  the  i$th  ultimo,  including  about  three  or  four  hundred  Indians. 
See  how  our  time  has  been  misspent — behold  how  the  golden  opportunity 
has  been  lost — perhaps  never  to  be  regained.  How  is  it  to  be  accounted 
for?  Can  General  Forbes  have  orders  for  this?  Impossible!  Will  then 
our  injured  country  pass  by  such  abuses  ?  I  hope  not.  Rather  let  a  full 
representation  of  the  matter  go  to  his  majesty ;  let  him  know  how  grossly 
his  glory  and  interests,  and  the  public  money  have  been  prostituted." 

Washington  contemplated  two  results  from  the  tardy  policy  of  the  gen 
eral;  first,  that  the  army  would  be  compelled  to  endure  the  suffering  of  a 
winter  passed  in  the  woods,  and,  being  unable  to  make  effective  progress 
until  late  in  the  spring,  the  French  would  have  ample  time  to  reinforce  Fort 
Ouquesne,  and,  to  make  the  matter  worse,  that  the  southern  Indian  tribes, 
who  had  thus  far  remained  true  to  their  treaties  with  the  English,  would  be 
drawn  away,  menacing  the  army  and  the  colonies  with  a  new  and  unnec 
essary  danger.  How  nearly  true  his  forecast  proved  to  be  we  will  now 
relate. 

During  September  Major  Grant,  under  orders  from  the  general,  made 
a  reconnoissance  about  Fort  Duquesne,  with  a  force  of  eight  hundred  men. 
The  result  of  his  over-boldness  was  an  engagement  with  the  garrison,  from 
which  the  English  retired,  having  lost  twenty-seven  men  killed  and  forty-two 
wounded.  On  the  5th  of  November  the  army  reached  the  terminus  of  the 
road  at  Loyal  Hanna,  forty-five  miles  from  Fort  Cumberland.  A  council  of 
war  being  held,  it  was  determined  that  it  was  alike  impracticable  to  make  a 
further  advance  before  the  spring,  and  to  place  the  army  in  winter  quarters 
in  the  heart  of  the  wilderness.  The  conclusion  had  been  reached  that  it 
would  be  necessary  to  return  to  the  frontier  and  set  out  anew  in  the  spring, 
when  word  came  of  the  exceeding  distress  of  the  French  garrison,  who 
lacked  provisions,  clothing,  and  ammunition,  and  had  little  prospect  of  an 
immediate  relief.  Washington  urged  a  forced  march  to  attack  the  fort  and, 
taking  the  matter  under  his  personal  charge,  completed  a  passable  road  by 
the  25th  of  November  and,  on  that  day,  the  English  became  masters  of  the 
much  dreaded  and  long  coveted  fortress,  which  had  been  deserted  by  its 
garrison,  after  they  had  destroyed  its  cannon  and  set  fire  to  the  fort  itself. 
The  flames  were  extinguished,  the  works  were  restored,  English  cannon 


TO  THE  FALL  OF  FORT  DUQUESNE.  51 

replaced  the  wrecked  artillery  of  the  French,  the  fort  was  re-christened 
Fort  Pitt,  in  honor  of  the  great  minister,  and  the  question  of  supremacy  in 
the  valley  of  the  Ohio  was  settled  forever,  in  favor  of  the  English  race. 
Washington,  leaving  a  detail  of  two  hundred  men  as  a  garrison  for  the 
fort,  conducted  the  remainder  of  his  force  to  Winchester,  and,  parting  with 
it  there,  proceeded  to  the  capital,  where  he  took  his  seat  in  the  General 
Assembly,  to  which  he  had  shortly  before  been  elected. 

The  reduction  of  Fort  Duquesne  released  Virginia,  not  only  from  the 
danger  of  French  invasion,  but  insured  the  good  behavior  of  the  Indians, 
and  Washington  at  last  felt  that  he  might,  without  dishonor,  retire  from  the 
arrry,  as  he  had  long  desired,  thus  gaining  opportunity  to  recover  his 
health,  which  was  much  impaired  by  repeated  and  arduous  campaigns,  to 
devote  some  time  to  neglected  business  interests  and,  most  of  all,  to  escape 
the  constant  annoyance  to  which  a  provincial  officer  was  subjected  by  reason 
of  the  rules  of  precedence  to  which  reference  has  been  made.  Hence,  at  the 
end  of  the  year  he  resigned  his  dual  office  of  colonel  of  the  First  Virginia 
regiment,  and  commander  in  chief  of  all  the  forces  of  the  colony,  and  laid 
down  his  sword,  only  to  again  wear  it  when  there  came  the  supreme  call  for 
a  man  who  might  lead  the  revolting  colonies  in  the  struggle  against  the 
mother  country. 

The  value  of  this  hard  and  thankless  service  against  the  French,  to 
Washington  and  to  his  country — who  can  measure  it?  Not  only  by  the 
disciplining  and  developing  of  his  own  mind  and  the  increase  of  his  direct 
knowledge  of  the  art  of  war,  but  in  the  familiarity  which  he  acquired  with 
the  methods  and  the  weaknesses  of  the  army  and  the  military  system  which 
he  was  to  oppose,  a  familiarity  which,  when  practically  applied,  enabled 
him,  with  a  small,  undisciplined,  and  ill-equipped  army — often  starving  and 
freezing  from  sheer  paucity  of  supplies,  to  harass,  worry,  and  annoy  the 
finest  armies  in  the  world  to  ultimate  demoralization  and  defeat.  More 
than  all,  it  had  assured  the  maintenance  of  his  mental  equipoise,  in  the  face 
of  disaster  in  the  field  and  disaffection  in  the  councils  of  those  who 
should  have  been  his  friends ;  it  had  prepared  him  for  the  discourage 
ments,  the  intrigues,  and  the  cabals  of  the  Revolution.  Accident — 
mere  blind  good-fortune — may  make  a  victorious  commander  a  hero ; 
only  he  who  is  exceptionally  wise  and  able,  can  win  reputation  from 
defeat.  Of  the  three  campaigns  in  which  Washington  participated,  during 
the  French  war,  two  ended  in  disaster — the  third  in  a  success  due  to 
extraneous  circumstances,  rather  than  to  any  merit  of  commanders  or 
bravery  of  men,  yet  from  so  unlikely  a  military  experience,  Washington 
emerged  with  an  uncontested  reputation  as  the  foremost  soldier  in  bravery, 
wisdom,  experience,  and  fertility  of  expedient,  in  all  the  colonies. 

It  is  not  within  the  scope  of  this  biography  to  further  follow  the  details 
of  the  French  war,  so-called ;  the  story  of  the  vigorous  prosecution  of  the 


52  GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 

war  in  the  north ;  of  the  fall  of  Fort  Niagara,  the  bloody  battle  at  Fort 
George,  on  the  lake  now  bearing  the  same  name;  the  capture  of  Ticonder- 
oga;  the  investment  of  Quebec,  with  the  death  of  Wolfe  and  the  yielding 
of  the  city  to  the  English ;  the  last  stand  and  final  surrender  of  Montreal, 
and  the  peace  that  gave  to  England,  for  the  time,  undisputed  title  to  the 
continent  of  North  America — of  all  these  it  would  be  interesting  to  write, 
but,  though  the  first  volley  in  the  encounter  between  the  forces  of  Wash 
ington  and  De  Jumonville  opened  the  war,  Washington  had  no  active  part 
in  it  after  the  occupation  of  Duquesne  by  the  English,  and  hence  our 
cern  with  it  as  well  is  at  an  end. 


MARTHA  WASHINGTON. 


MARRIAGE  AND    HOME   LIFE.  53 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

MARRIAGE  AND    HOME  LIFE. 

THUS  far  these  pages  have  told  little  of  the  private  life  of  Washington, 
save  as  it  appears  by  glimpses  in  the  struggles,  labors,  disappointments 
and  successes  that  so  often  interrupted  it.  Indeed,  there  is  little  of  real  boy 
hood,  or  of  the  small  pleasures  and  hopes  of  youth,  to  tell.  Washington 
made  but  a  single  step  from  the  school-room  to  the  field,  seeming  to  open 
fully  and  at  once  from  an  exceptionally  serious  and  thoughtful  childhood  to 
the  full  stature  of  the  noble  manhood  that  was  his  own.  It  is  difficult  to 
mark  the  development  that  intervened  between  the  setting  out  upon  that 
first  journey  into  the  wilderness  and  the  surrender  at  Yorktown.  Develop 
ment  of  course  there  was,  but  so  reserved  was  the  character  of  the  man,  so 
chary  was  he  of  the  utterance  of  sentiment  or  the  expression  of  enthusiasm, 
so  few  are  the  recorded  utterances  that  have  no  direct  and  serious  bearing 
upon  the  business  of  his  life,  that  the  growth  is  all  below  the  surface  and 
we  may  only  judge  of  its  extent  by  the  results  that  it  compassed.  Yet 
Washington  was  not  without  an  element  of  romance,  under  all  the  practical 
ity  of  his  nature.  When  only  a  boy  of  fifteen  he  had  a  love  affair — with 
whom,  no  one  will  ever  certainly  know,  for  his  natural  secretiveness  led  him 
to  refer  to  her — never  name  her.  (Supposed  to  be  the  mother  of  Henry 
Lee — "Light  Horse  Harry.")  He  treated  this  new  ailment  of  his  with 
all  the  seriousness  with  which  he  later  planned  a  campaign  or  directed  a 
battle ;  he  was  not  ashamed  of  it — he  had  none  of  the  bashfulness  of 
boys  who  are  sophisticated  in  skirts  and  become  men  of  the  world  in 
short  trousers.  His  correspondence  with  his  young  friends  is  full  of  allu 
sions  to  this  "lowland  beauty,"  and  in  his  copy-books  are  a  few  awk 
ward  and  unmusical  rhymes,  in  which,  after  the  ordinary  boyish  fashion, 
he  bewails  the  fate  that  keeps  him  from  the  fair  unknown.'  Action,  how 
ever,  cured  him,  as  it  has  cured  many  a  man  of  the  same  ailment,  and 
after  he  became  a  friend  and  later  entered  the  service  of  the  bluff  old 


54  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

Lord  Fairfax,  we  hear  nothing  more  of  the  mysterious  maid.  It  was  not 
until  1756  that  he  again  felt  the  irritating  sensation  of  love.  He  was  at  that, 
time  colonel  of  the  First  Virginia  regiment  and  commander  in  chief  of  all  the 
forces  of  the  colony,  yet  he  found  his  authority  questioned  by  a  captain  in 
command  of  a  fort  within  the  colony,  on  the  ground  that  the  latter  held  a 
king's  commission.  Out  of  all  patience,  Washington  set  out  on  horseback 
for  Boston,  there  to  submit  the  question  to  the  arbitrament  of  the  com 
mander  in  chief.  He  was  successful  in  his  principal  mission,  but  at  grave 
expense  in  peace  of  mind,  for  he  lost  his  heart  to  Miss  Mary  Phillipse,  who 
was  an  inmate  of  the  family  of  a  Virginia  friend  of  Washington,  then  a  resi 
dent  of  New  York,  she  being  a  sister  of  the  latter's  wife.  The  young  lady 
was  a  niece  of  an  aristocratic  and  wealthy  gentleman,  and  one  of  the  two 
presumptive  heiresses  of  his  estate.  Washington  certainly  laid  close  siege 
to  the  young  lady's  heart;  he  as  certainly  took  a  sudden  departure  for 
Virginia,  but  whether,  as  Irving  kindly  holds,  called  to  the  field  by  the  sum 
mons  of  duty,  or  urged  by  the  gloomy  prospect  of  his  suit,  history  cannot 
say.  At  all  events  he  deserted  the  ground,  and  Captain  Morris  of  New  York 
won  the  young  beauty,  with  her  broad  acres,  and,  from  the  two,  sprang  one 
of  the  most  distinguished  families  of  the  State.  By  an  odd  coincidence, 
the  seat  of  the  Morrises  on  the  Hudson  became  the  headquarters  of  Wash 
ington  during  one  of  his  revolutionary  campaigns.  So  ended  his  second 
affaire  du  cczur. 

After  Washington's  assignment  to  duty  with  the  Forbes  expedition  his 
men,  having  been  mustered,  were  without  arms,  ammunition  or  equipment. 
Repeated  representations  of  the  state  of  affairs  having  failed  of  eliciting  a 
satisfactory  response  from  the  colonial  government,  Washington  was 
ordered  to  proceed  to  Williamsburg,  and  urge  in  person  the  necessity  of 
placing  the  troops  upon  an  effective  footing.  Mounting  his  horse,  and 
taking  a  single  servant,  he  set  out  for  the  seat  of  government.  Upon 
the  road  he  fell  in  with  a  Mr.  Chamberlayne,  a  Virginia  gentleman, 
whose  estate  lay  hard  by,  and  who  insisted  with  characteristic  hospitality, 
that  Washington  should  pause  at  his  house  for  dinner.  The  latter  was  in 
great  haste  to  reach  Williamsburg,  and  only  when  resistance  began  to  seem 
discourteous  did  he  yield  assent  to  the  invitation.  His  resolve  proved  a 
most  fortunate  one.  At  Mr.  Chamberlayne's  table  he  met  a  young  and 
charming  widow,  Mrs.  Martha  Custis,  whose  husband,  John  Parke  Custis, 
had  died  three  years  previously.  She  was  a  daughter  of  John  Dandridge 
and,  by  blood  and  marriage,  was  a  member  of  two  families  of  the  simon- 
pure  Virginia  aristocracy.  Perhaps  Washington  had  met  her  before.  At 
all  events  it  is  evident  that  he  succumbed  at  once  to  her  charms,  which  were 
assuredly  sufficient  to  excuse  so  ready  a  surrender.  All  his  eagerness  to 
press  on  to  Williamsburg  vanished.  His  horse,  which  he  had  ordered  his 
servant  to  bring  to  the  door  immediately  after  dinner,  walked  contentedly 


MARRIAGE   AND    HOME    LIFE.  55 

back  to  the  discussion  of  hay  and  corn  in  the  stable,  and  Washington,  for 
the  first  and  only  recorded  time  of  his  life,  enticed  by  pleasure,  paused  in  the 
path  of  duty.  In  the  morning  he  proceeded  to  Williamsburg ;  but  the 
young  widow  resided  at  her  seat,  the  White  House,  but  a  few  miles  from  that 
city,  and  before  Washington's  mission  was  accomplished,  his  horse  knew 
every  pebble  in  the  road  that  lay  between.  For  the  first  time  since  his  mil 
itary  experience  began,  the  young  commander  had  now  the  opportunity  ot 
pursuing  his  favorite  theory  of  offensive  warfare — untrammeled  by  the  imbe 
cility  of  legislators  and  the  clogging  etiquette  of  service.  This  he  improved 
to  the  utmost,  bearing  in  mind,  no  doubt,  the  disaster  that  resulted  from  his 
temporizing  policy  with  Miss  Phillipse,  and  as  a  result,  before  he  turned  his 
back  upon  the  White  House  to  proceed  to  Winchester,  the  fair  widow  was  his 
promised  wife,  and  the  wedding  was  set  to  occur  immediately  after  the  close 
of  the  coming  Duquesne  campaign.  On  the  6th  day  of  January,  1759,  the 
marriage  took  place  at  the  White  House,  and  Washington  thus  laid  down  his 
service  of  the  king  to  assume  a  domestic  allegiance  that  nothing  ever  served 
to  shake.  Mr.  Custis  had  left  for  equal  division  among  his  widow  and  chil 
dren  a  large  landed  estate  and  more  than  forty-five  thousand  pounds  sterling. 
Washington's  estate  had  prospered,  in  spite  of  his  inattention,  and  he 
was  a  man  of  wealth  sufficient  to  enable  him  to  maintain  his  state  with  the 
best  in  the  land.  For  a  few  weeks  the  newly  married  couple  remained  at 
the  seat  of  the  bride;  then  they  removed  to  Mount  Vernon,  the  noble 
estate  which  had  come  to  Washington  from  one  of  his  brothers,  and  there 
established  themselves  in  the  comfort  of  a  tranquil  country  life,  which,  for 
the  greater  part  of  two  decades,  was  only  to  be  interrupted  by  the  duties  ot 
Washington  as  a  legislator,  and  by  occasional  calls  of  business  and  pleasure. 
One  argument  in  favor  of  the  effectiveness  of  the  laws  of  heredity  is 
found  in  the  devotion  of  Washington  to  two  modes  of  life — the  military  and 
that  of  the  landed  gentleman.  He  was  first,  last,  and  always  a  soldier, 
when  military  duty  was  to  be  done  ;  failing  that  he  was  a  planter.  He 
loved  the  quiet  and  order  of  rural  life.  He  improved  his  estate  by  personal 
attention  when  others  of  the  jcune  noblesse  of  Virginia  allowed  theirs  to 
deteriorate  from  neglect  and  loaded  them  with  mortgages,  to  satisfy  the 
demands  of  lives  of  prodigality.  Even  with  the  details  of  his  plantation 
work,  sometimes  actually  in  the  manual  execution  of  his  own  orders,  Wash 
ington  was  associated.  His  establishment  was  conducted  with  all  the  wicle- 
doored  hospitality  that  marked  the  Virginian  life  of  the  day  ;  his  table  was 
furnished  in  the  finest  and  most  abundant  manner,  and  was  served  by  the 
best  of  servants.  His  wife  went  forth  upon  her  stately  round  of  visits  in  a 
coach  and  four,  with  footmen  and  outriders.  Washington  himself  rode  the 
choicest  of  English  thoroughbreds,  hunted  after  the  finest  hounds,  rode  upon 
the  river  in  a  beautiful  barge  manned  by  a  crew  of  picked  and  uniformed 
slaves.  His  friends,  even  the  venerable  Lord  Fairfax  who  had  given  him 


56  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

his  first  lessons  in  the  chase,  often  came  to  Mount  Vernon,  and  the  stables 
were  amply  supplied  with  mounts  for  all.  Sometimes  a  British  man-of-war 
anchored  in  the  Potomac — then  there  were  successive  feasts  at  Mount  Ver 
non,  Belvoir,  and  other  seats,  with  reciprocation  on  the  part  of  the  royal 
officers. 

Back  of  it  all,  aside  from  the  demands  of  his  estate  and  the  numerous 
private  trusts  committed  to  his  care,  Washington  had  not  a  little  of  public 
business,  to  serve  as  a  foil  to  the  free  and  happy  home  life  we  have  described. 
As  a  member  of  the  House  of  Burgesses  he  was  much  at  Williamsburg,  the 
seat  of  government ;  public  missions  often  led  him  to  Winchester  and  other 
points  in  the  province,  and  sometimes  he  was  called  even  farther — to  Phila 
delphia  or  to  Annapolis,  the  ultra  conservative  and  aristocratic  seat  of  the 
province  of  Maryland,  where  he,  recognized  as  the  foremost  Virginian,  and 
his  highbred  and  brilliant  wife  were  prominent  in  the  gaiety  with  which  the 
officers  of  the  province  surrounded  themselves. 

This  is,  in  brief,  the  life  that,  from  the  fall  of  Duquesne  to  the  sounding 
of  the  alarm  that  heralded  the  Revolution,  engrossed  the  future  leader  of  the 
people.  Was  ever  an  atmosphere  less  suited  to  fostering  republicanism  ; 
was  ever  a  man  more  fitted  by  association,  education,  taste,  and  interest  to 
be  a  royalist,  a  tory,  a  recreant  to  the  interests  of  his  native  soil  ? 

With  these  words  this  record  leaves  what  may  be  termed  the  first  of 
the  three  periods  of  Washington's  public  life.  He  has  served  his  appren 
ticeship  and  now  awaits  only  the  summons  of  the  bugle,  to  move  to  his 
country's  aid  in  a  service  destined  to  mark  him  as  the  one  man  in  history 
who  has  been  the  creator  of  a  popular  government  that  has  stood  the  shocks 
of  a  century. 


RIPENING   OF   THE   REVOLUTION.  57 


CHAPTER  IX. 

RIPENING  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

ALTHOUGH  the  surrender  of  Montreal  in  1757  ended  the  actual  hos 
tilities  between  France  and  England,  it  was  not  until  1763  that  a 
formal  peace  was  concluded,  at  the  convention  of  Fontainbleau.  Thus,  for 
the  first  time  in  ten  years,  the  colonies  seemed  secure  from  any  other  warlike 
danger  than  that,  always  present,  from  the  unstable  and  treacherous  Indians. 
This  very  peril  took  definite  form  in  May  of  that  year,  when  the  border 
Indians  united  in  a  conspiracy  to  simultaneously  attack  and  overpower  all 
the  English  forts  from  Detroit  to  Eort  Pitt — the  re-christened  Fort  Du- 
quesne.  This  uprising  resulted  in  the  temporary  loss  of  some  of  the 
smaller  defences,  and  in  a  blood}-  massacre  of  settlers,  but  proved  abortive 
as  to  its  principal  object.  Washington's  retirement  to  private  life  prevented 
his  taking  part  in  the  defensive  movement  which  followed,  and  his  ardent 
desire  to  be  allowed  to  remain  a  planter  and  a  country  gentleman,  bade  fair 
to  be  indefinitely  gratified. 

The  seeds  of  discord  between  the  colonies  and  the  crown  were,  how 
ever,  already  sown,  and  the  great  agitation  that  led  to  a  revolution  which 
resulted  in  establishing  the  greatest  republic  of  the  world,  was  even  then 
begun.  England's  policy  toward  the  colonies  is  too  well  known  to  call  for 
more  than  passing  mention.  At  the  time  of  which  we  are  now  speaking, 
the  regard  of  the  home  country  for  her  American  dependencies  was  that  of 
a  purely  commercial  nation  for  a  business  investment.  It  is  a  matter  of 
astonishment  that  there  was  mingled  with  this  mercenary  view  so  little  feel 
ing  of  kinship  or  sympathy.  England  neither  gave  to  America  the  respect 
accorded  to  a  foreign  ally,  nor  the  affection  naturally  subsisting  between 
people  of  common  blood  and  traditions.  In  America  the  feeling  toward 
the  mother  country  was  still  one  of  respect  and  love ;  long  after  the  unjust 
policy  of  the  crown  had  aroused  an  active  resistance  and  that  resistance  had 
evoked  a  measure  of  retaliation,  many  Americans  of  the  best  class  habitu 
ally  referred  to  England  as  "home,"  and  at  no  time  until  months  after 


58  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

the  seizure  of  the  American  magazines  and  the  first  bloodshed  at  Concord, 
was  it  beyond  the  power  of  England,  by  simplest  justice  in  legislation 
and  executive  action,  to  have  closed  the  breach,  and  thus,  for  many  years, 
prolonged  her  dominion  in  America. 

The  first  public  evidence  of  ill-feeling  between  the  people  of  the  old 
England  and  the  new,  came  from  those  British  merchants,  who  held  the 
paper  currency  of  the  colonies,  issued  during  the  prolonged  war,  and  found 
it  depreciated  upon  their  hands.  The  result  of  their  outcry  was  an  order 
declaring  colonial  scrip  not  legal  tender  for  the  payment  of  debts.  This 
action  greatly  embittered  a  public  feeling  adverse  to  English  commercial 
interference,  already  created  by  successive  acts  of  restrictive  legislation, 
thus,  in  effect,  tersely  stated  by  Irving:  "Her  (England's)  navigation  laws 
had  shut  their  ports  against  foreign  vessels ;  obliged  them  to  export  their 
productions  only  to  countries  belonging  to  the  British  crown ;  to  import 
European  goods  solely  from  England,  and  in  English  ships,  and  had  sub 
jected  the  trade  between  the  colonies  to  duties.  All  manufactures,  too,  in 
the  colonies,  that  might  interfere  with  those  of  the  mother  country,  had 
been  either  totally  prohibited  or  subjected  to  intolerable  restrictions."  In 
short,  it  was  sought  to  make  the  colonies  separate  and  isolated  communities 
of  agricultural  producers,  which  should  sell  their  raw  material  to  English 
merchants,  without  competition,  thus  giving  one  profit,  and,  by  compulsion, 
purchase  from  the  same  men  their  manufactured  goods,  thus  paying  another. 
It  was  the  same  policy  that,  applied  to  Ireland,  has  made  one  of  the  most 
highly  favored  people  in  Europe  a  nation  of  tatterdemalions  and  pau 
pers.  It  is  not  strange  that  this  narrow  and  unjust  policy  called  forth  the 
violent  opposition  that  it  did,  yet  there  was  still  stronger  cause  for  protest 
in  store. 

Though  the  subject  of  direct  taxation  of  the  American  colonies  had 
often  been  broached,  the  instant  antagonism  aroused,  the  firm  stand  taken  by 
the  Americans  that  no  body  in  which  they  were  unrepresented  had  a  right 
to  tax  them,  had  thus  far  dissuaded  the  crown  from  adopting  so  arbitrary  a 
measure.  The  close  of  the  French  war,  however,  leaving  England  secure 
in  her  sense  of  American  proprietorship,  brought  a  decided  change  of 
policy.  British  ships-of-war  in  American  waters  became  floating  and  armed 
custom-houses,  every  naval  commander  was  especially  instructed  to  direct 
his  effort  at  the  breaking  up  of  smuggling,  and  the  result  was  the  destruc 
tion  of  a  very  profitable,  though  prohibited,  trade  between  the  American 
colonies  of  England  and  Spain.  An  effort  was  made  to  search  houses  and 
stores  in  Boston,  in  quest  of  contraband  sugar,  the  case  was  tested  in  the 
courts,  as  a  matter  of  constitutional  right,  with  the  result  of  exciting  the 
popular  indignation  to  the  highest  pitch,  and  arousing  the  first  active  oppo 
sition  to  the  authority  of  the  crown.  It  was  reserved  for  George  Grenville, 
in  1764,  then  prime  minister  of  England,  to  rush  in  where  wiser  men  than 


• 


RIPENING    OF   THE    REVOLUTION.  59 

he  had  feared  to  tread.  He  procured  the  passage  of  an  act  of  Parliament 
declaring  the  right  of  England  to  tax  the  American  colonies.  Following 
upon  this  he  gave  notice  of  his  intention  to  press,  at  the  next  session,  for  the 
adoption  of  a  system  of  stamp  duties  to  be  enforced  in  the  colonies.  This 
action  was  the  logical  result  of  a  growing  policy  which  had,  within  the  four 
years  preceding,  led  to  the  adoption  of  no  less  than  twenty-nine  separate  acts 
of  Parliament,  looking  to  the  repression  of  American  commerce  and  indus 
try.  The  outburst  of  indignation  which  followed  its  announcement,  would 
have  altered  the  determination  of  a  wiser  minister,  and  terrified  one  less 
obstinate  and  hot-headed.  New  England,  possessing  the  most  immediate 
commercial  interest,  took  the  lead ;  New  York  and  Virginia  followed  her. 
Petitions  were  framed,  signed,  and  sent  to  king  and  Parliament,  and  every 
possible  indication  of  popular  disapproval,  united  to  press  for  a  reconsider 
ation.  Yet,  in  March,  1/65,  the  act  was  passed,  providing  that  every 
instrument  in  \vriting,  executed  within  the  colonies,  should  be  drawn  upon 
stamped  paper,  purchased  of  agents  of  the  crown,  providing  penalties  for 
offenses  against  the  act,  and  also  that  trials  in  all  cases  arising  thereunder 
might  be  had  in  any  royal,  marine,  or  admiralty  court,  at  any  point  within 
any  of  the  colonies. 

It  may  be  stated  here  that  the  stamp  act  was  never  enforced,  save  to  a 
very  limited  extent.  The  agents  appointed  to  dispose  of  the  paper,  either 
shared  the  public  feeling  and  refused  to  serve,  or  soon  found  it  advisable  to 
resign  for  their  own  safety.  The  first  official  protest  against  the  iniquitous 
measure  came  from  the  conservative  and  loyal  colony  of  Virginia.  The 
House  of  Burgesses  was  then  in  session — Washington  sitting  among  its 
members — a  resolution  was  introduced  by  that  fiery  orator,  Patrick  Henry 
(then  a  young  member  of  the  House),  declaring  that  the  colony  of  Virginia 
had  the  exclusive  right  to  tax  its  inhabitants  and  that  whoever  maintained 
the  contrary  should  be  deemed  an  enemy  of  the  country.  This  position 
he  defended  in  a  speech  that  has  passed  into  history  as  one  of  the  most 
eloquent  in  the  annals  of  American  legislation.  After  little  debate,  and 
with  small  modification  the  resolutions  were  adopted,  and  the  Lieutenant- 
governor,  alarmed  at  the  spirit  displayed,  at  once  dissolved  the  House. 
This  was  a  signal  for  other  colonial  legislatures  to  act,  and  an  entire 
unanimity  was  evinced  by  the  adoption,  throughout  the  country,  of  similar 
resolutions,  and  the  expressed  determination  to  resist  the  enforcement  of 
the  act  to  all  extremities.  On  the  1st  day  of  November,  named  as  the 
time  for  the  act  to  go  into  effect,  there  were  everywhere  demonstrations, 
the  burning  of  royal  agents  in  effigy,  the  tolling  of  bells,  flags  at  half-mast, 
and  other  indications  of  both  anger  and  sorrow. 

Washington  returned  from  the  meeting  of  the  dissolved  House,  deeply 
concerned  for  the  safety  of  the  colonies,  impressed  with  the  injustice  of  the 
English  measures  and,  above  all,  as  were  most  good  men  at  that  day, 


6O  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

anxious  that  the  case  should  be  so  represented  to  England  as  to  induce  a 
reconsideration  of  the  offensive  acts,  an  adjustment  of  difficulties  upon  the 
basis  of  mutual  interest,  and  the  preservation  of  those  relations  under 
which  he  had  been  born  and  grown  to  maturity.  Few  men  then  thought 
of  separation  between  the  colonies  and  England,  as  a  possibility;  those  few 
regarded  it  only  as  a  remote  contingency,  and  a  very  calamitous  one  as  well. 
So  slow  is  the  Anglo-Saxon  to  assume,  even  in  his  own  mind,  the  attitude 
of  a  revolutionist. 

It  was,  indeed,  a  serious  question  that  met  Washington's  consideration, 
and  one  which,  to  all  appearances,  could  receive  but  one  consistent  answer, 
were  he  at  all  to  regard  his  personal,  pecuniary,  or  social  interests.  Every 
tradition  of  his  family  and  colony,  every  environment  of  his  life,  every  con 
sideration  of  ambition,  friendship,  and  taste,  tended  to  the  cause  of  royalty 
— to  make  him  a  tory.  Here  was  he  living  upon  a  magnificent  estate,  rich, 
independent,  respected  ;  having  received  more  than  one  indication  of  high 
consideration  from  the  home  government,  intimately  associated  with  men 
who,  like  the  Fairfaxes,  were  fixed,  though  moderate,  royalists;  raising  his 
tobacco  year  by  year,  receiving  a  good  price  for  it  in  England,  and  caring 
little  for  the  privilege  of  importing  from  any  other  than  English  ports. 
What  had  he  to  lose  by  a  continuance  or  increase  of  the  exercise  of  a  con 
trol  under  which  he  had  so  greatly  prospered ;  what  could  he  possibly  gain 
by  identifying  himself  with  the  cause  of  a  few  scattered,  poor,  and  weak 
colonies,  with  no  better  assurance  of  unity  than  the  possession  of  a  com 
mon  grievance  against  the  most  powerful  maritime,  military,  and  commer 
cial  nation  in  the  world?  These  questions  came  up  to  him  and  to  the 
majority  of  representative  Virginians,  whose  interests  were  like  his,  and  so 
different  from  those  of  the  commercial  colonies  of  New  York  and  New 
England.  In  a  letter  written  April  5,  1769,  to  George  Mason,  Washington 
speaks  of  the  non-importation  agreement,  then  being  warmly  advocated, 
and  later  so  generally  adopted,  in  the  following  words,  which  give  a  clear 
statement  of  the  difference  of  interest  between  New  England  and  Virginia, 
and  at  the  same  time,  show  how  carefully  he  considered  the  effect  of  such  a 
resolve  upon  his  own  fortunes,  thus  emphasizing  the  significance  of  the 
warm  adherence  he  later  gave  to  that  and  to  more  radical  movements: 

"The  Northern  colonies,  it  appears,  are  endeavoring  to  adopt  this 
scheme.  In  my  opinion  it  is  a  good  one,  and  must  be  attended  with  salu 
tary  effects,  provided  it  can  be  pretty  generally  carried  into  execution. 

That  there  will  be  a  difficulty  attending  it  everywhere,  from 
clashing  interests  and  selfish,  designing  men,  ever  attentive  to  their  o\vn 
gain,  and  watchful  of  every  turn  that  can  assist  their  lucrative  views,  can 
not  be  denied,  and,  in  the  tobacco  colonies,  where  the  trade  is  so  diffused, 
and,  in  a  manner,  wholly  conducted  by  factors  for  their  principals  at  home, 
these  difficulties  are  certainly  enhanced,  but  I  think  not  insurmountably 


RIPENING    OF   THE    REVOLUTION.  6l 

increased,  if  the  gentlemen,  in  their  several  counties,  will  be  °.t  some  pains 
to  explain  matters  to  the  people,  and  stimulate  them  to  cordial  agreements 
to  purchase  none  but  certain  enumerated  articles  out  of  any  of  the  stores, 
after  a  definite  period,  and  neither  import  nor  purchase  any  themselves. 

I  can  see  but  one  class  of  people,  the  merchants  excepted, 
who  will  not,  or  ought  not  to,  wish  well  to  the  scheme,  namely,  those  who 
live  genteelly  and  hospitably  upon  clear  estates.  Such  as  these,  were  they 
not  to  consider  the  valuable  object  in  view,  and  the  good  of  others,  might 
think  it  hard  to  be  curtailed  of  their  living  and  enjoyments,"  The  italics 
used  in  the  words  "gentlemen"  and  "people, "are  simply  intended  to  indi 
cate  how  naturally  the  mind  of  Washington,  or  that  of  any  man  sharing 
his  position,  at  that  time,  made  distinctions,  quite  out  of  harmony  with 
the  republican  institutions  which  they  were  fated  to  establish. 

The  closing  clause  of  Mason's  reply  to  this  letter  is  peculiarly  interest 
ing,  as  showing  to  how  small  a  degree  had  penetrated  any  wider  idea  of 
the  destiny  of  America  than  that  sought  to  be  inculcated  by  Great  Britain, 
and,  also,  as  clearly  proving  that,  among  Washington  and  his  chosen  friends, 
there  had  not,  at  that  time,  arisen  any  desire  beyond  that  for  a  reconcilia 
tion  of  differences  and  a  renewal  of  the  relations  temporarily  interrupted. 
After  expressing  approval  of  the  non-importation  agreement,  as  an  expe 
dient,  Mason  says  :  "I  am  thoroughly  convinced  that,  justice  and  harmony 
happily  restored,  it  is  not  for  the  interest  of  these  colonies  to  refuse  British 
manufactures.  Our  supplying  our  mother  country  with  gross  materials  and 
taking  her  manufactures  in  return,  is  the  true  chain  of  connection  between 
us.  These  are  the  bonds,  which,  if  not  broken  by  oppression,  must  long 
hold  us  together  by  maintaining  a  constant  reciprocation  of  interest." 

It  is  impossible  here  to  follow  the  minute  history  of  the  events  which 
led  up  to  the  Revolution.  Among  other  acts  passed  by  Parliament  was 
that  providing  that  troops,  "  for  the  protection  of  the  colonies,"  dispatched 
to  America  in  time  of  peace,  should  be  lodged  and  maintained  at  the 
expense  of  the  colonies  to  which  they  were  assigned,  and  another  permit 
ting  the  removal  of  a  citizen  of  any  colony,  charged  with  treason  or  mis- 
prision  of  treason,  to  any  other  colony  or  to  England,  for  trial.  Boston  had 
been,  from  the  beginning  of  the  agitation,  regarded  by  England  as  a  "  hot 
bed  of  rebellion,"  and  was  the  first  to  feel  the  force  of  the  military  billeting 
act.  On  the  28th  of  September,  1766,  in  consequence  of  repeated  collisions 
between  the  people  of  Boston  and  the  King's  customs  officers,  two 
regiments  of  regulars,  under  General  Hood,  having  been  ordered  from 
Canada,  entered  the  city,  and,  there  being  no  quarters  provided  for 
them  by  the  people,  some  encamped  upon  the  common,  some  were  quar 
tered  in  the  State  house,  and  others  in  Faneuil  hall.  Cannon  were  posted 
before  the  State  house  door,  and  every  comer  and  goer  was  challenged  by 
sentinels.  The  Assembly  of  Massachusetts  had  been  before  prorogued,  on 


62  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

account  of  its  strong  protests  against  the  action  of  the  crown,  and  did  n< 
again  meet  until  May  of  the  following  year.  When  came  the  time  f( 
reassembling  a  message  was  at  once  sent  to  the  Governor  that  th 
body  could  not,  consistently  with  its  dignity,  take  any  action,  so  long  i 
there  was  even  an  apparent  military  occupation  of  the  capital,  and  reques 
ing  that  the  troops  be  withdrawn  beyond  the  limits  of  the  city.  Th 
request  not  being  complied  with,  the  Assembly  adjourned  to  Car 
bridge ;  the  Governor  sent  a  message  requiring  provision  to  be  mac 
for  the  maintenance  of  the  troops  ;  compliance  was  refused,  and  the  boc 
was  summarily  dissolved.  In  May,  1769,  the  Virginia  House  of  Burgess 
was  convened  with  great  pomp,  the  King  having  sent  out  as  Governc 
Lord  Boutetourt,  with  ample  provision  for  dazzling  this  aristocratic  color 
into  submission.  The  first  act  of  that  body  was  to  pass  a  resolution  co 
demning  the  course  adopted  for  the  coercion  of  Massachusetts ;  the  secor 
to  adopt  an  agreement  of  non-importation,  proposed  by  Washingtoi 
Like  the  Assembly  at  Cambridge,  the  House  at  Williamsburg  was  prompt 
dissolved. 

Pending  the  ripening  of  events,  Washington  made  an  expedition  in 
the  valley  of  the  Ohio,  to  select  land  for  appropriation  to  the  payment 
bounties  to  the  soldiers  who  served  in  the  French  war.  He  undertook  tt 
at  his  private  cost,  that  long  deferred  justice  might  be  done  these  men,  at 
set  apart  lands  which  were,  by  his  influence,  later  divided  among  the  su 
vivors. 

So  matters  stood  when,  on  the  5th  of  September,  1774,  the  first  Com 
nental  Congress  assembled  at  Philadelphia,  in  accordance  with  a  plan  agre< 
upon  by  the  various  colonial  bodies.  The  Virginia  delegation  consisted 
Peyton  Randolph,  Richard  Henry  Lee,  George  Washington,  Patrick  Henr 
Richard  Bland,  Benjamin  Harrison,  and  Edward  Pendleton — truly  a  magni 
cent  group  of  men,  well  worthy  the  colony  which  sent  them ;  well  fitted 
meet  the  grave  emergency  of  the  hour.  Every  colony,  save  Georgia,  w 
represented,  and  as  a  preliminary  measure,  it  was  determined  to  give  ea< 
colony  a  single  vote  upon  any  question  which  might  come  before  the  Co 
gress.  The  solemnity  of  this  most  momentous  meeting  was  deepened  by  tl 
circulation  of  a  report  that  Boston  had  been  cannonaded  by  the  British  flee 
which  rumor  bore  all  the  weight  of  truth.  The  men  gathered  in  the  roo 
which  may,  better  than  any  other,  be  called  the  cradle  of  American  libert 
had  taken  their  property,  if  not  their  lives,  into  their  hands  in  so  gatherir 
to  condemn  and  oppose  the  action  of  Great  Britain,  and  their  words  ar 
resolutions  were  such  as  to  leave  no  doubt  that  life  and  property  were  alii 
lightly  held,  as  compared  with  the  inestimable  right  of  civil  liberty.  Tl 
first  resolution  of  the  Congress  was  a  re-assertion  of  the  principles  and  pr 
tests  that  had  been  again  and  again  framed  and  formulated  by  local  asser 
blies  and  committees,  and  forwarded  to  the  King  and  Parliament,  withoi 


RIPENING    OF   THE    REVOLUTION.  63 

eliciting  reply  or  remedy.  The  second  was  the  adoption  of  a  bill  of  rights, 
thus  epitomized  by  Irving:  "In  this  were  enumerated  their  natural  rights 
to  the  enjoyment  of  life,  liberty,  and  property  ;  and  their  rights  as  British 
subjects.  Among  the  latter  was  participation  in  legislative  councils.  This 
they  could  not  exercise  through  representatives  in  Parliament.  They 
claimed,  therefore,  the  power  of  legislating  in  their  provincial  assemblies, 
consenting,  however,  to  such  acts  of  Parliament  as  might  be  essential  to  the 
regulation  of  trade ;  but  excluding  all  taxation,  internal  or  external,  for  the 
raising  of  revenue  in  America.  The  common  law  of  England  was  claimed 
as  a  birthright,  including  the  right  of  trial  by  a  jury  of  the  vicinage ;  of 
holding  public  meetings  to  consider  grievances ;  and  of  petitioning  the 
King.  The  benefits  of  all  such  statutes  as  existed,  at  the  time  of  the 
colonization,  were  likewise  claimed,  together  with  the  immunities  and  priv 
ileges  granted  by  royal  charters,  or  secured  by  provincial  laws.  The  main 
tenance  of  a  standing  army  in  any  colony,  in  time  of  peace,  without 
the  consent  of  its  Legislature,  was  pronounced  contrary  to  law.  The  exer 
cise  of  the  legislative  power  in  the  colonies,  by  a  council  appointed  dur 
ing  pleasure  by  the  crown,  was  declared  to  be  unconstitutional  and  destruc 
tive  of  the  freedom  of  American  legislation." 

Then  followed  a  specification  of  the  acts  of  Parliament  passed  during 
the  reign  of  George  III.,  infringing  and  violating  these  rights.  These 
were:  The  sugar  act;  the  stamp  act ;  the  two  acts  for  quartering  troops; 
the  tea  act;  the  act  suspending  the  New  York  Legislature;  the  two  acts  for 
the  trial  in  Great  Britain  of  offenses  committed  in  America;  the  Boston 
port  bill ;  the  act  for  regulating  the  government  of  Massachusetts,  and  the 
Quebec  act. 

"To  these  grievances,  acts,  and  measures,"  it  was  added,  "Americans 
cannot  submit,  but  in  hopes  their  fellow  subjects  in  Great  Britain,  will,  on 
a  revision  of  them,  restore  us  to  that  state  in  which  both  countries  found 
happiness  and  prosperity,  we  have,  for  the  present  only,  resolved  to  pursue 
the  following  peaceable  measures: 

"I.  To  enter  into  a  non-importation,  non-consumption,  and  non-expor 
tation  agreement,  or  association. 

"2.  To  prepare  an  address  to  the  people  of  Great  Britain,  and  a  memo 
rial  to  the  inhabitants  of  British  America. 

"3.  To  prepare  a  loyal  address  to  His  Majesty." 

The  Congress  remained  in  session  fifty-one  days ;  it  sat,  as  has  been 
said,  with  closed  doors  ;  it  had  no  reporters,  and,  were  it  not  for  the  official 
papers  promulgated,  and  the  fragmentary  statements  embodied  in  the 
journals  of  members,  the  world  would  have  remained  forever  in  ignorance 
of  its  proceedings.  Of  Washington's  part  in  its  debates  we  have  no  dis 
tinct  record ;  he  had  no  independent  vote,  and  the  account  surviving  tells 
us  nothing  of  the  attitude  he  assumed.  Patrick  Henry  'has,  however,  left 


04  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

us  an  invaluable  legacy  in  these  words,  spoken  to  a  friend  upon  his  return 
home:  "If  you  speak  of  eloquence,  Mr.  Rutledge,  of  South  Carolina,  is 
by  far  the  greatest  orator ;  but,  if  you  speak  of  solid  information  and  sound 
judgment,  Colonel  Washington  is  unquestionably  the  greatest  man  on  the 
floor."  So  far  as  Washington  is  concerned,  this  statement  will  readily  be 
accepted  as  accurate,  but  Henry  did  himself  an  injustice.  There  exists,  in 
the  journal  of  more  than  one  member,  evidence  that  the  first  speech  of  the 
young  Virginian  in  Congress,  closing  with  the  famous  words :  "I  am  not  a 
Virginian,  but  an  American,"  marked  him  as  the  most  eloquent  of  his  peo 
ple.  Who  can  say  too  much  in  praise  of  the  wisdom,  the  bravery,  the 
determination  and  yet  the  moderation  of  the  body  of  men  which  composed 
that  first  Congress.  The  words  of  a  wise  and  just  opponent  say  more  for 
them  than  could  the  warmest  encomiums  of  friends  and  countrymen.  He 
said  in  the  House  of  Lords :  "  When  your  lordships  look  at  the  papers  trans 
mitted  to  us  from  America ;  when  you  consider  their  decency,  firmness,  and 
wisdom,  you  cannot  but  respect  their  cause  and  wish  to  make  it  your  own. 
For  myself,  I  must  declare  and  avow  that,  in  the  master  states  of  the  world, 
I  know  not  the  people  or  senate,  who,  in  such  a  complication  of  difficult 
circumstances,  can  stand  in  preference  to  the  delegates  of  America  assem 
bled  in  general  Congress  in  Philadelphia." 

Gage  had,  in  the  meantime,  adopted  measures  even  more  stringent 
than  before,  for  the  reduction  of  Boston  to  order  and  loyalty.  He  moved 
troops  out  of  the  city  by  night  and  took  possession  of  the  powder  stored  in 
a  public  magazine  at  Charlestown.  In  the  morning  a  large  force  of  armed 
colonists  assembled,  with  the  declared  intention  of  marching  against  the 
city,  but  better  counsels  prevailed,  and  the  affair  ended  with  no  worse  result 
than  the  loss  of  the  munitions  and  the  spreading  of  the  false  report  of  the 
cannonading  of  Boston,  already  referred  to.  In  Virginia  the  war  feeling  was 
thoroughly  aroused.  The  independent  companies,  commonly  in  existence, 
were  multiplied  and  increased,  and  Washington  was  constantly  assailed  for 
advice  and  counsel.  He  joined  heartily  in  sympathy  with  the  spirit  of 
resistance,  should  such  course  prove  necessary,  and  asserted  his  readiness  to 
assume  command  of  the  Virginia  troops  in  the  event  of  war. 

Early  in  the  year  1770  Lord  Grafton  resigned  the  portfolio  of  prime 
minister  of  England,  and  Lord  North  was  named  his  successor.  The  latter 
seems  to  have  appreciated  the  grave  dangers  which  threatened  the  English 
power  in  America,  but  not  to  have  comprehended  the  fact  that  the  matter 
had  been  reduced  to  a  conflict  for  principle,  not  merely  for  pecuniary  gain. 
Under  his  advice,  all  the  duties  levied  in  1767,  save  that  on  tea,  were  removed 
— the  latter  being  maintained  for  the  assertion  of  the  right  of  the  crown  to 
tax  its  colonies.  He  was  urged  to  relinquish  this  exception,  but  said:  "The 
properest  time  to  exert  our  right  to  taxation  is  when  the  right  is  refused. 
To  temporize  is  to  yield ;  and  the  authority  of  the  mother  country,  if  it 


RIPENING   OF   THE    REVOLUTION.  65 

is  now  unsupported,  will  be  relinquished  forever.  A  total  repeal  cannot  be 
thought  of  till  America  is  prostrate  at  our  feet."  Thus  the  new  pre 
mier,  not  only  nullified  the  effect  of  his  concessions,  but  aroused  by  his 
utterances  an  antagonism  far  more  serious  and  determined  than  any  that 
had  gone  before.  As  a  consequence,  a  general  covenant  was  entered  into, 
and  strictly  adhered  to  throughout  the* colonies,  not  to  use  any  tea  until  the 
tax  was  removed.  The  effect  of  the  non-tea-drinking  policy  in  America 
was  disastrous  to  the  East  India  company,  which  accumulated  in  its  London 
warehouses  the  thousands  upon  thousands  of  chests  that  would  have  natur 
ally  supplied  the  colonial  market.  Government  interfered  to  protect  its 
pet  corporation,  by  the  passage  of  an  act  freeing  the  commodity  from 
export  duties,  thus  enabling  the  company  to  sell  it  so  cheaply  in  America 
that  it  was  hoped  the  colonies  might  be  tempted  from  their  pledge.  Ships 
were  at  once  loaded  and  cleared  for  the  various  American  ports ;  from  some 
they  returned  to  London  with  unbroken  cargoes ;  at  others  they  unloaded  and 
the  tea  spoiled  in  warehouses  and  cellars ;  nowhere  was  the  tea  sold  in  any 
considerable  quantity.  It  was  reserved  for  Boston  to  give  the  most  decisive 
proof  of  determination  to  receive  or  consume  no  taxable  goods.  Vessels 
laden  with  tea  reaching  that  port,  a  small  quantity  was  landed,  but  its  sale 
was  prohibited.  The  governor  refused  to  give  the  vessels  clearance  to 
return  to  England,  and  there  was  every  evidence  of  a  determination  to  test 
the  colonies  to  the  utmost,  by  compelling  the  retention  and  the  landing  of 
the  cargoes.  On  the  night  of  the  i6th  of  December,  1773,  a  party  of 
young  men,  disguised  as  Indians,  boarded  the  vessels  and,  to  the  last  chest, 
threw  the  tea  into  the  harbor. 

So  soon  as  the  news  of  this  action  reached  England,  Parliament 
passed  an  act  closing  the  port  of  Boston  and  removing  the  custom  office  to 
Salem,  thus  seeking  by  direct  retaliation  to  reduce  the  spirit  of  citizens  of 
a  town  which,  more  than  any  other,  had  earned  the  displeasure  of  the 
crown.  Not  content  with  this,  subsequent  legislation  provided  that  all 
judicial  officers  of  the  province  should  be  appointed  by  the  crown,  to  hold 
office  during  the  royal  pleasure,  and  that  persons  accused  of  capital  offences 
committed  in  aid  of  the  magistrates,  might  be  removed  to  other  colonies  or 
to  England  for  trial.  When  the  news  of  this  legislation  reached  America  it 
everywhere  met  with  the  unmeasured  condemnation  of  the  people.  Public 
meetings  in  Boston  and  New  York  adopted  resolutions  expressing  a 
sense  of  the  outrage,  and  the  Virginia  House  of  Burgesses  declared  similar 
sentiments  and  was  promptly  dissolved.  On  the  1st  of  June  the  order 
closing  the  port  of  Boston  went  into  effect,  and  the  clay  was  kept  as  one 
of  fasting  and  prayer  throughout  the  colonies. 

General  Gage,  the  officer  who  led  the  advance  in  Braddock's  battle  with 
the  French,  was  the  newly  appointed  commandant  at  Boston,  and  upon  him 
was  imposed  the  responsibility  of  enforcing  the  regulations  of  the  crown,  and, 


66  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

somewhat  unjustly,  the  ignominy  that  of  necessity  attached  to  the  applica 
tion  of  measures  so  severe.  General  Gage  did  not  assume  the  attitude  of 
one  commanding  the  protective  garrison  of  a  friendly  city ;  his  action  was 
that  of  armed  occupation,  for  restraint,  if  not  for  punishment.  The 
neck  which  unites  the  peninsula,  upon  which  Boston  is  built,  with  the  main 
land,  was  entirely  entrenched;  guns  mounted  in  the  works  with  muzzles 
pointing  landward,  and  every  preparation  made  to  meet  and  successfully 
resist  any  movement  which  might  be  made  by  the  colonists,  against 
the  troops  of  the  king.  The  commander  showed  little  tact  in  dealing  with 
the  people  of  Boston,  who  were  in  an  extremely  excited  state ;  the  public 
meetings,  which  aroused  his  apprehension,  were  prohibited  to  be  held, 
after  a  given  date,  but  this  order  was  practically  nullified  by  the  citi 
zens,  who  kept  alive  the  meetings  already  convened. 


PATRICK    HENRY 


CONCORD,    LEXINGTON,   AND   THE    SIEGE    OF    BOSTON. 


CHAPTER  X. 

CONCORD,  LEXINGTON,  AND  THE  SIEGE  OF  BOSTON. 

AT  last  came  the  night  of  the  famous  i8th  of  April,  1775.  Gage  held 
Boston  with  a  force  of  eight  thousand  men,  strongly  placed,  defended 
by  land  batteries,  and  supported  by  the  guns  of  men-of-war  in  the  harbor. 
Urged  by  his  own  pride  and  the  solicitations  of  the  toadies  about  him, 
he  determined  to  capture  the  public  arsenal  at  Concord,  twenty  miles 
from  the  city.  Though  preparations  were  made  with  great  secrecy,  and  alf 
roads  leading  to  the  city  were  picketed,  information  of  the  design  leaked 
out,  and  when,  on  the  night  of  the  iSth,  nine  hundred  infantry  embarked  in 
boats  and  landed  in  Cambridge,  a  lantern  hung  in  the  tower  of  the  old 
South  Church  flashed  out  the  intelligence  to  the  patriots,  and  before  the 
movement  was  well  begun,  that  famous  "  midnight  ride  of  Paul  Revere," 
had  spread  the  news  through  the  dark  and  sleeping  villages  before  the 
troops.  Consequently  the  advance  was  made  to  the  unwelcome  music  of 
alarm  guns  and  pealing  bells.  The  commander  of  the  expedition,  Colonel 
Swift,  sent  back  for  reinforcements,  while  Major  Pitcairn  pushed  on  to 
secure  the  way  and  the  bridges  at  Concord.  At  Lexington  a  handful 
of  armed  colonists — less  than  seventy — drawn  up  in  order  on  the  common, 
awaited  the  coming  regulars.  Major  P'tcairn  ordered  them  to  disperse; 
some  one — on  which  side  no  one  will  ever  know — fired  a  shot,  a  general  desul 
tory  firing  followed,  eight  of  the  continentals  fell  dead  and  ten  wounded, 
the  first  blood  had  been  shed  in  an  armed  collision  between  king  and 
colonies, — the  war  of  the  Revolution  was  begun. 

At  Concord  the  time  had  permitted  of  a  larger  gathering;  every  effort 
was  made  to  remove  and  conceal  the  munitions  contained  in  the  magazine, 
and  with  so  much  success  that  little  remained  for  the  regulars  when  they 
came.  The  continentals,  hearing  of  the  collision  at  Lexington,  were 
excited  to  the  highest  degree,  but  finding  themselves  three  times  outnum 
bered  by  the  advancing  force,  retired  to  an  eminence  near  the  town,  while 


68  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

the  British  conducted  the  almost  futile  search,  and  sacking  of  the  magazine. 
The  regulars  arrived  at  7  o'clock  in  the  morning.  About  10  o'clock, 
the  northerly  bridge  of  the  two  that  span  the  Concord  river  in  the  village 
being  held  by  the  British,  the  defending  body  was  attacked  by  a  force  of 
three  hundred  Americans,  who,  after  some  loss,  carried  the  bridge  and 
forced  the  regulars  back  upon  the  main  body.  Colonel  Swift,  having  com 
pleted  his  work,  determined  to  retreat,  and  set  out  upon  an  orderly  retro 
grade  movement  toward  Boston.  The  provincials  now  took  the  offensive ; 
dispersing  upon  the  flanks  of  the  enemy,  after  the  backwoods  fashion,  firing 
from  behind  trees,  stumps,  and  stone  fences ;  presenting  no  target  for 
the  volleys  of  the  regulars,  yet  making  every  bullet  from  their  own  guns 
effective ;  galling  the  enemy  in  the  open  country ;  assailing  him  so  closely, 
where  the  road  passed  through  woodland,  as  to  make  fearful  havoc  in  his 
ranks,  these  inexperienced  farmers  and  blacksmiths,  absolutely  without  a 
leader,  acting  in  no  concert,  save  that  which  arose  from  a  community  of 
wrongs,  drove  a  superior  force  of  the  flower  of  British  regulars  from  retreat 
to  rout,  from  rout  to  headlong,  disorderly  flight,  a  flight  in  which  no  man 
paused  to  raise  his  fallen  or  wounded  comrade  from  the  ground,  until,  at  2 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  a  brigade  of  one  thousand  men,  sent  as  reinforce 
ments  from  Boston,  opened  its  ranks  to  receive  the  panting  and  terror- 
stricken  fugitives  to  the  protection  of  its  guns  and  muskets.  This  modern 
Thermopylae  was  the  first  victory  of  America;  the  parallel,  in  less  degree, 
of  Braddock's  disaster  at  Duquesne.  The  pursuit  was  only  given  over  at 
sunset,  the  provincials  being  called  to  a  halt  at  Charlestown  common. 
Their  forces  had  been  constantly  increased  by  the  arrival  of  minute  men 
and  others,  who  had  left  their  homes  so  soon  as  word  of  the  battle  reached 
them,  armed  with  whatever  weapons  they  could  command.  Had  the  royal 
force  shown  but  a  little  less  zeal  in  the  flight,  their  annihilation  or  capture 
would  have  been  assured.  As  it  was,  the  body  of  men  who  had  moved  so 
confidently  out  as  for  a  holiday  expedition,  entered  Boston  as  thoroughly 
demoralized  as  ever  were  royal  troops,  sent  to  face  plow-boys  and  clodhop 
pers. 

In  Virginia,  at  the  very  time  when  came  the  news  of  the  affair  at  Con 
cord,  Lord  Dunmore,  the  Governor,  was  engaged  in  carrying  into  effect  the 
royal  mandate,  by  seizing  all  stores  and  munitions  of  war  within  the  colony. 
Only  his  timely  retreat  from  this  determination  saved  him,  unpracticed  as 
he  was,  from  capture. 

The  mustering  of  forces  in  the  East  was  speedy,  and  augured  ill  foi 
Gage.  All  the  New  England  colonies  began  the  levy  of  troops  to  assist 
their  neighbors  of  Massachusetts.  Among  others,  Generals  Artemas  Ward 
and  Israel  Putnam,  hastened  to  offer  their  services,  and  the  former  was 
advanced  to  the  command  of  the  camp,  where  were  stationed  the  forces  of 
the  allied  colonies. 


CONCORD,   LEXINGTON,   AND   THE    SIEGE    OF    BOSTON.  69 

During  the  following  month  the  daring  exploits  of  Ethan  Allen  and 
Benedict  Arnold  accomplished  the  capture  of  Ticonderoga  and  Crown  Point, 
and  the  opening  of  the  only  available  highway  to  Canada,  and  all  without 
the  loss  or  even  wounding  of  a  man. 

On  the  loth  of  May,  1775, the  Second  Continental  Congress  assembled 
at  Philadelphia.  A  formal  petition  to  the  crown  was  again  adopted,  but 
the  pressing  and  absorbing  measure  was  as  to  the  recognition  and  main 
tenance  of  the  Massachusetts  army,  which  was  really  besieging  Boston.  A 
federation  of  the  colonies  was  proposed,  leaving  each  to  regulate  its 
internal  affairs,  but  reposing  the  central  authority  in  an  executive  commit 
tee  of  twelve.  A  resolution  to  admit  any  colony  that  irp^ht  still  apply, 
though  it  had  not  been  represented  in  the  former  Congress,  brought  Georgia 
into  line,  and  the  Congress  was  ready  to  take  practical  legislative  action. 
It  authorized  the  issuing  of  notes  to  the  amount  of  three  million  dollars, 
for  which  the  faith  of  the  colonies  should  be  pledged,  and  directed  the 
purchase  of  supplies,  the  enlistment  and  equipment  of  troops,  and  the 
construction  of  fortifications;  then  it  turned  to  the  consideration  of  the 
army  of  New  England.  It  is  not  surprising  that  there  should  have  been  a 
disagreement  on  this  point.  The  Southern  men  urged  that,  the  army  hav 
ing  been  recruited  in  New  England,  if  a  commander  in  chief  were  appointed 
from  the  same  section,  any  contribution  which  the  South  might  make 
would  be  but  to  an  alien  force.  New  England,  on  the  other  hand,  held 
that  for  the  very  reason  that  they  had  armed  and  equipped  the  troops,  and 
had  shed  the  first  blood,  they  were  entitled  to  the  command.  General 
Artemas  Ward  was  already  at  the  head  of  the  army,  and  the  men  were 
quite  satisfied  with  him;  John  Hancock,  though  he  had  never  seen  service 
except  in  the  militia,  was  anxious  for  the  honor;  Colonel  Charles  Lee, 
a  brilliant  officer,  but  a  foreigner  and  an  adventurer,  was  in  the  lists,  as 
well.  Washington's  name  was  prominently  before  the  Congress,  but  he 
had  no  agency  in  the  matter.  When  John  Adams,  with  a  spirit  of  true 
patriotism,  determined  to  throw  over  all  sectional  considerations,  arose  in 
his  place  and,  without  using  a  name,  clearly  indicated  his  preference  for 
Washington,  the  latter,  who  sat  near  the  door,  hastened  from  the  room, 
determined  no  longer  to  take  part  in  the  debate.  The  question  was  not 
then  decided;  it  was  determined  to  hold  it  open  and  take  the  sense  of  the 
people  on  the  subject,  but,  this  having  been  done,  there  remained  no  ques 
tion  that  Washington  was  the  popular  candidate,  and  he  was  consequently, 
on  the  1 5th  of  June,  1775,  named  commander  in  chief  of  all  the  forces  cf 
the  united  colonies.  At  the  same  time  it  was  determined  to  properly  clothe, 
arm,  equip,  and  pay  the  army  already  assembled  in  New  England  and  to 
supplement  its  strength  with  ample  reinforcement. 

Washington  felt  natural  gratification  at  his  selection,  and  accepted  the 
trust  with  an  avowed  intention  to  fulfil  it  to  the  utmost  of  his  power,  but 


7Q  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

there  is  no  question  that  he  united  with  this  grateful  feeling  a  profound 
distrust  of  his  own  ability  to  perform  its  duties.  Although  his  pay 
had  been  fixed  by  Congress  at  five  hundred  dollars  per  month,  he  declined 
all  compensation,  saying  that  he  would  keep  an  exact  account  of  his  actual 
expenses,  and  would  rely  upon  Congress  to  discharge  the  same.  Immedi 
ately  upon  receiving  his  appointment  Washington  set  out  for  New  England. 
His  only  previous  visit  to  that  colony  had  been  with  the  purpose  of  deter 
mining  the  relative  standing  of  a  royal  and  a  provincial  officer ;  this  later 
one  had  the  same  object,  but  the  question  was  to  be  settled  by  a  very 
different  arbitrament.  He  was  met  by  a  committee  of  the  Massachusetts 
Legislature  and  escorted  to  the  camp  by  a  body  of  militia  and  many  citizens. 
Upon  his  arrival  he  was  presented  with  an  address  of  the  House  of  Repre 
sentatives,  of  so  cordial  a  nature  as  clearly  to  indicate  that  any  momentary 
disappointment  the  people  might  have  felt  at  the  non-appointment  of  a 
New  England  man  as  commander,  had  quite  passed  away.  Having  thus 
arrived  on  the  2d  day  of  July,  1775,  the  first  duty  of  the  new  commandant 
was  to  reconnoiter  the  position  of  the  enemy. 

Already,  on  the  I7th  of  June,  two  days  after  Washington's  appoint 
ment,  had  occurred  the  first  organized  battle  of  the  war ;  that  truly  wonder 
ful  struggle  for  the  possession  of  Breed's  and  Bunker's  Hills.  On  the  night 
of  the  1 6th  General  Putnam  and  Colonel  Prescott,  with  one  thousand  two 
hundred  men,  poorly  equipped  and  utterly  undisciplined,  crossed  unob 
served  the  jealously  guarded  neck,  fortified  Breed's  hill,  the  eminence  nearer 
Boston ;  threw  out  a  flanking  work  of  fence-rails  and  hay,  extending  to  the 
river  marshes ;  built  a  second  fortification  upon  Bunker's  hill,  in  the  rear, 
and,  when  daylight  came,  presented,  to  the  eyes  of  the  astonished  Brit 
ish,  series  of  works  upon  both  eminences  commanding  the  city,  already 
armed  with  artillery  and  manned  by  a  force  of  no  insignificant  strength. 
General  Gage  was  not  only  mortified  but  alarmed  at  the  discovery ;  he 
saw  that  the  provincials  were  in  a  position  to  cannonade  the  city,  and  that 
their  dislodgement  was  not  simply  a  matter  of  military  policy,  but  one  of 
absolute  necessity.  Consequently,  after  the  Americans  had  been  for  some 
hours  the  objects  of  a  terrible  cannonading  from  men-of-war  in  the  river, 
and  from  floating  batteries  upon  the  Mystic,  a  large  force,  under  General 
Howe,  was  moved  across  in  boats,  with  directions  to  carry  the  works  by 
assault.  Some  delay,  on  the  part  of  the  British,  gave  time  for  the  arrival 
of  General  Stark,  with  a  reinforcement  of  five  hundred  Connecticut  regulars. 
These  were  sent  to  strengthen  Putnam,  who  was  in  command  at  the  fence 
already  referred  to,  while  Prescott  remained  in  the  redoubt.  At  last  the 
British,  numbering  some  two  thousand  men,  advanced,  confident  of  an  easy 
victory.  General  Howe  detailed  General  Pigot  with  a  portion  of  the  force, 
to  ascend  the  hill  and  carry  the  redoubt,  while  he  himself,  with  the 
remainder,  dislodged  Putnam,  turned  the  flank  of  the  Americans,  and  cut  off 


CONCORD,     LEXINGTON,    AND    THE    SIEGE    OF    BOSTON.  /I 

their  retreat.  Both  bodies  moved  steadily  on,  firing  occasional  almost  harm, 
less  volleys,  until  within  a  few  yards  of  the  American  works,  wh<_-n  the 
provincials,  who  had  been  directed  to  reserve  their  fire,  received  them  with 
volleys  so  accurately  directed,  and  so  terribly  effective,  as  to  utterly  confuse 
them,  and  compel  a  retirement  most  hasty  and  disorderly,  some  of  the 
men,  as  we  are  told,  not  pausing  until  they  reached  the  boats.  A  second 
attempt  resulted,  after  more  determined  effort,  in  the  same  way,  the  British 
force  falling  back  with  terrible  slaughter. 

Between  the  rail  fence  and  the  redoubt  was  a  gap  which  the  patriots  had 
been  unable,  for  lack  of  time,  to  fill.  This,  it  was  resolved,  should  be  the 
objective  point  of  a  third  assault,  which  General  Howe,  against  the 
entreaties  of  his  advisers,  determined  to  make.  Making  a  feint  with  the 
main  body  against  the  fence,  General  Howe  brought  his  artillery  to  bear 
upon  this  open  space,  then  led  his  main  body  in  an  assault.  Both  forces 
reserved  their  fire — the  Americans  had  their  last  ammunition  in  their  pieces, 
one  volley  was  exchanged  at  short  range,  followed  by  a  bayonet  attack  by 
the  British,  and  a  desperate  hand  to  hand  struggle  for  the  possession  of 
every  inch  of  ground,  which  ultimately  resulted  in  the  retreat  of  the  Amer 
icans,  who,  had  they  repulsed  the  enemy  in  that  attack,  could  not  have 
held  the  works,  by  reason  of  the  fact  that  they  had  absolutely  no  ammuni 
tion.  At  the  fence  Putnam  held  the  detachment  of  the  enemy  until  after  the 
evacuation  of  the  redoubt,  then  joined  in  the  retreat,  which  the  British  were 
too  crippled  and  fatigued  to  molest.  There  seems  little  doubt  that,  had  the 
ammunition  of  the  Americans  not  fallen  short,  the  redoubt  would  have  been 
held,  reinforced  during  the  night,  and  rendered  almost  impregnable,  thus 
putting  Boston  at  the  mercy  of  the  provincial  artillery.  As  it  was,  of  the 
two  thousand  British  engaged,  one  thousand  two  hundred  and  fifty  were 
killed  or  wounded,  while  the  one  thousand  seven  hundred  Americans  lost 
but  four  hundred  and  fifty.  Such,  in  bare  outline,  was  the  famous  battle 
which  taught  the  British  a  second  lesson  as  to  the  real  stuff  of  which  the 
American  is  made,  and  which,  although  it  failed  of  its  main  object,  was 
of  invaluable  service  in  inspiring  the  patriot  soldiers  with  confidence  in 
themselves,  and  in  ridding  them  of  their  tendency  to  over-estimate  the 
value  of  scarlet  cloth,  brass  buttons,  and  gold  lace.  On  the  other  hand,  it 
was  sufficient  to  impress  the  Continental  Congress  with  the  necessity  of  hav 
ing  a  single  head  to  the  army — thus  strengthening  Washington's  position, 
and  also  giving  substantial  force  to  his  demands  for  organized  ordnance  and 
commissary  departments. 

Washington,  upon  his  arrival,  found  the  British  army  some  eight  thou 
sand  strong,  supported  by  the  guns  of  the  fleet  and  the  Mystic  river  bat 
teries,  and  busy  in  fortifying  the  twin  hills  which  it  had  cost  them  so  much 
to  win.  A  battery  upon  Copp's  hill,  on  the  Boston  side  of  the  water,  a 
division  of  troops  encamped  on  Roxbury  neck,  and  a  comparatively  small 


72  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

body  of  cavalry  and  infantry  in  the   city  itself,  completed  the   arrangement 
and  assignment  for  defense. 

The  American  army  straggled  over  a  distance  of  not  less  than  twelve 
miles,  from  a  point  beyond  Roxbury,  toward  Dorchester,  where  the  right 
rested,  across  the  Charles  river  to  the  position  of  the  left  on  the  Mystic. 
Every  inch  of  this  extensive  line  it  was  necessary  to  block,  in  order  to  con 
tinue  the  imprisonment  of  the  British.  For  this  service  Washington  found 
at  his  disposal  fourteen  thousand  five  hundred  men.  The  simple  statement 
of  this  force,  however,  gives  a  false  idea  of  its  actual  efficiency.  It  lacked 
everything  in  the  way  of  organization,  the  troops  had  come  as  volunteers 
from  different  colonies,  were  separately  encamped,  and,  while  they  had,  by 
common  consent,  recognized  General  Ward  as  first  in  command,  they  were 
subservient  to  their  various  commanders  in  all  matters  within  and  appertain 
ing  to  their  several  bodies,  and  there  was  quite  as  much  variety  in  the  mat 
ter  of  discipline  as  of  dress  and  armament.  There  was  no  recognition  in 
most  cases  of  any  superiority  of  non-commissioned  and  platoon  officers  over 
the  rank  and  file — the  men  living  on  terms  of  perfect  equality  with  all. 
There  was  no  common  source  of  supply  of  sustenance  and  munitions. 
Each  colony  pretended  to  supply  its  own  levies,  and  Washington  found  it 
necessary  to  correspond  with  the  officers  of  every  colony — sometimes 
actually  with  the  officers  and  committees  of  towns.  There  was  lack  of  tents 
— hence  the  men  made  themselves  shelters  or  were  quartered  in  barracks. 
The  army  was  primarily  divided  into  three  divisions ;  the  command  of 
the  right,  about  Roxbury,  assigned  to  General  Ward;  the  left,  lying  on 
the  Mystic,  placed  in  charge  of  Major-general  Lee ;  the  center  Washington 
commanded,  having  his  headquarters  at  Cambridge. 

His  own  judgment  was  that  it  was  vitally  important  by  some  means  to 
crush  the  British  force  in  Boston  before  the  active  war  measures  in  England 
should  compass  its  reinforcement.  He  believed  that  no  more  favorable  time 
for  the  accomplishment  of  the  desired  result  would  ever  occur  than  then 
offered,  and,  although  his  own  force  was  so  greatly  inferior  in  dis 
cipline,  and  equipment,  he  believed  that  a  coup  de  main,  well  planned  and 
boldly  executed,  might  be  successful,  and  would  well  repay  the  heavy  loss 
that  must  surely  attend  it.  One  of  the  first  orders  given  by  the  commander 
in  chief  was  that  a  strict  account  be  taken  of  all  powder  on  hand,  and  a 
report  be  made  to  him.  The  officer  charged  with  the  duty  returned  with  the 
answer  that  there  were  three  hundred  and  three  barrels  in  store.  This, 
though  not  a  large  stock,  was  sufficient  for  an  emergency,  and  Washington 
only  awaited  a  fitting  opportunity  to  adopt  offensive  measures,  when  there 
came  a  second  report  to  the  effect  that,  instead  of  the  amount  first  stated, 
there  was  barely  enough  powder  in  the  magazines  to  make  nine  cartridges  for 
each  man,  and  none  at  all  for  artillery  use !  This  egregious  error  had  arisen 
from  the  making  of  the  first  report  on  the  basis  of  the  original  amount  of 


CONCORD,    LEXINGTON,   AND    THE    SIEGE    OF    BOSTON.  73 

powder  furnished  by  the  various  colonies,  making  no  deduction  for  the 
amount  used  in  muskets  and  cannon  at  the  battle  of  Bunker's  Hill.  Thus 
Washington  found  himself  not  only  entirely  helpless,  so  far  as  any  offensive 
movement  was  concerned,  but  in  a  position  where,  should  the  British  make 
a  sortie,  he  could  not  hope  to  make  a  successful  resistance.  His  only  hope 
lay  in  the  ignorance  of  his  condition  on  the  part  of  the  enemy,  and  the  preser 
vation  of  this  he  did  his  utmost  to  assure,  in  the  meantime  dispatching  the 
most  pressing  messages  to  Congress  and  to  the  authorities  of  the  various 
colonies,  representing  his  condition  of  literal  helplessness,  and  begging  for 
succor.  In  spite  of  all  this  effort  two  weeks  elapsed  before  the  first  re 
sponse  came;  then  it  was  in  the  form  of  a  very  small  supply  of  powder 
from  New  Jersey,  but,  meagre  as  it  was,  an  equal  weight  of  gold  would  not 
have  been  more  welcome,  for  it  enabled  the  army,  if  attacked,  to  make  at 
least  one  stand  against  the  enemy.  In  spite  of  all  the  address  used  in  pre 
venting  knowledge  of  this  lack  of  ammunition  coming  to  the  ears  of  the 
beleaguered  British,  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  they  did,  in  fact,  learn  of 
it,  but  could  not  be  led  to  believe  that  an  army  of  rustics,  without 
bayonets  or  powder,  would  have  the  assurance  to  continue  the  siege  of  a  city 
so  garrisoned,  and  dismissed  the  report  as  a  story  invented  to  entrap  them. 
Notwithstanding  all  the  weaknesses  and  disadvantages  which  have  been  indi 
cated,  Washington  saw  in  the  force  under  his  command  "the  materials  of  a 
good  army."  He  had  men  in  considerable  number;  these  men  were  enthu 
siastic,  determined,  and  brave,  beyond  question.  What  they  needed  was 
organization,  discipline,  equipment,  and  maintenance.  The  first  two  needs 
he  felt  himself  competent  to  supply  ;  the  others  he  trusted  to  Congress  to 
furnish,  and  he  had  much  encouragement  to  believe  that  none  of  the  diffi 
culties  would  prove  insuperable,  and  that,  within  the  space  of  a  few  months, 
at  least,  he  should  find  himself  at  the  head  of  an  army  as  effective  as  the 
emergency  demanded.  After  making  the  three  grand  divisions  referred  to, 
he  passed  to  the  organization  of  divisions  and  brigades,  placing  upon  the 
shoulders  of  generals  in  command  the  drill  and  discipline  of  the  men.  He 
promulgated  rules,  prescribed  punishments  for  their  infraction,  and  soon- 
made  unruly  and  insubordinate  soldiers  realize  the  fact  that  they  were  no 
longer  attached  to  mere  levies,  but  were  factors  in  a  regularly  organized 
army.  Imprisonment,  flogging,  even  death,  were  fixed  as  penalties  for  mis 
behavior,  and  were  rigorously  applied  whenever  guilt  was  established. 

In  the  meantime  both  besieged  and  besiegers  were  busy  in  strengthening 
their  works,  neither  averse  to  a  fight,  neither  secure  enough  of  the  result  to 
risk  taking  the  initiative.  Boston  was  beginning  to  sorely  feel  the  restraints 
of  the  siege  and  to  suffer  for  lack  of  fresh  meat  and  vegetables.  Only  by 
sea  could  these  be  obtained,  and  even  that  means  of  supply  was  uncertain 
and  attended  with  danger.  Washington  recommended  that  cattle  be  driven 
inland,  and  that  such  other  supplies  as  could  be  readily  transported  be 


74  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

removed  beyond  the  reach  of  foragers  from  the  coast.  There  came  bitter 
and  piteous  complaints  of  the  rapacity  of  the  English  from  coastwise  towns 
and  villages,  with  urgent  requests  for  armed  protection  from  the  army  before 
Boston.  Washington  could  not  detail  troops  for  outside  service  without 
risking  the  loss  of  the  main  end  of  the  campaign,  and  he  so  answered  those 
who  had  appealed  to  him,  saying  that  they  must  rely  upon  their  own  militia 
for  local  protection.  So  much  dissatisfaction  was,  however,  felt  at  this  rul 
ing,  and  so  pertinacious  were  the  demands  made  upon  him,  that  the  com 
mander  was  obliged  to  obtain  from  Congress  the  passage  of  a  resolution  to 
the  effect  that  the  army  had  been  organized  for  service  against  Boston  and 
the  regular  forces  of  Great  Britain,  and  that  it  must  not  be  weakened  for 
especial  service  of  the  kind.  This  to  a  degree  relieved  Washington  from 
what  had  been  a  very  annoying  importunity,  and,  at  the  same  time,  induced 
the  citizens  of  exposed  districts  to  organize  quite  efficiently  for  the  protec 
tion  of  their  homes,  a  result  that  greatly  assisted  in  the  maintenance  of  the 
blockade  and  in  the  annoyance  of  the  British.  At  Newport,  Rhode  Island, 
the  town  having  suffered  somewhat  severely  from  the  depredations  of  the 
British,  the  committee  made  an  agreement  with  the  commander  on  the  sta 
tion  to  supply  him  with  necessary  provisions,  being  in  return  guaranteed 
against  loss  or  damage  from  his  vessels  or  men.  It  was  necessary  for  Wash 
ington  to  interfere  to  secure  the  overthrow  of  this  injurious  arrangement. 

In  July,  1775,  Georgia,  the  only  colony  heretofore  unrepresented, 
chose  delegates  to  the  Congress,  and  the  phrase,  adhered  to  thereafter, 
"The  Thirteen  United  Colonies,"  was  assumed  as  the  title  of  the  alliance. 
Upon  the  meeting  of  Congress,  one  of  the  most  pressing  matters  claim 
ing  its  attention  was  provision  for  some  manner  of  maritime  service, 
without  which  it  was  difficult  to  maintain  a  blockade  or  in  any  manner  to 
protect  the  towns  and  cities  upon  the  American  seacoast.  Pending  the 
building  and  equipment  of  vessels  adequate  to  direct  competition  with  those 
of  the  English  navy,  it  was  proposed  to  grant  letters  of  marque  and  reprisal 
to  all  applicants  and  thus,  by  appealing  to  a  desire  for  plunder,  secure 
the  arming,  at  no  cost  to  the  colonies,  of  an  efficient  fleet  of  privateers. 
Congress  hesitated  to  adopt  a  measure  so  radically  hostile  in  tone,  and  was 
contented,  instead,  with  voting  a  resolution  authorizing  the  capture  or 
destruction  of  any  vessel  in  any  manner  aiding  the  enemies  of  the  United  Col 
onies.  This  resolution  was  so  worded  as  to  convey,  under  cover  of  apparent 
moderation,  license  to  attack  any  possible  vessel  bearing  the  British  flag. 
The  result  was  exactly  what  had  been  anticipated  and  desired.  All  along 
the  American  coast  there  sprang  into  being,  as  if  by  magic,  a  fleet  of  priva 
teers — small,  swift,  more  or  less  completely  armed — manned  by  hardy  seamen 
who  knew  every  curve  and  indentation  of  the  coast — who  could  elude  pur 
suit  by  running  into  shallow  water,  and  who  knew  no  fear  of  either  wind  or 
lead.  These  men  had  many  of  them  suffered  by  the  rapacity  of  the  British. 


CONCORD,   LEXINGTON,   AND   THE    SIEGE    OF    BOSTON.  75 

All  were  fully  alive  to  the  pecuniary  advantage  of  capturing  a  merchant 
man  or  cutting  off  a  convoy.  Hence  their  service  was  of  the  most  efficient ; 
the  British  merchant  marine  suffered  seriously,  as  did  the  military  transports 
bearing  troops,  arms,  ammunition,  and  supplies  to  the  British  army  in 
America.  The  double  advantage  of  depriving  the  royal  army  of  needed 
munitions  and  of  obtaining  the  same  to  relieve  the  desperate  straits  of  the 
Americans  was  keenly  felt  by  Congress,  and  the  privateersmen  reaped 
abundant  reward  for  their  services.  Their  captures,  too,  constantly 
strengthened  their  own  fleet  and  enabled  the  colonies  to  lay  the  foundation 
of  a  navy. 

Congress  also  took  steps  to  provide  for  the  better  arming  and  equip 
ment  of  its  army,  and  for  meeting  the  problem  of  re-enlistment — one 
scarcely  less  serious  or  difficult.  To  thoroughly  appreciate  the  mistakes 
of  army  organization  that  began  with  the  war  and  were  never  entirely  recti 
fied,  it  is  necessary  to  appreciate  that,  until  nearly  the  middle  of  the  year 
1776,  the  idea  of  independence  as  the  ultimate  object  of  the  war  had  not 
gained  ground  among  the  better  class  of  Americans.  When  arms  were  first 
taken  up  it  was  with  no  other  object  than  to  resist  the  asserted  right  to  tax 
the  colonies.  The  leaders  of  the  people  from  the  first  regarded  an  accommo 
dation  of  the  difficulty  as  the  highest  and  best  thing  to  be  hoped  for,  provided 
such  an  accommodation  were  obtained  with  no  sacrifice  of  honor  or  princi 
ple.  Even  when  the  batteries  at  Boston  were  thundering  at  each  other; 
when  the  dead  of  king  and  colonies  were  buried;  when  wounded  groaned  in 
the  hospitals  and  prisoners  languished  in  jails,  the  Continental  Congress 
appointed  a  day  of  fasting  and  prayer,  one  of  the  objects  of  which  was  to 
implore  the  Almighty  "to  bless  our  rightful  sovereign,  King  George  III., 
and  inspire  him  with  wisdom."  The  spirit  which  induced  this  dedication 
gives  a  clue  to  the  cause  of  the  fundamental  error  of  enlisting  men,  not  for 
the  period  during  which  their  services  should  be  required,  or  for  a  long  and 
definite  term,  but  for  one  year.  From  the  outset  of  his  service  at  Cam 
bridge  until  late  in  the  war,  Washington  was  compelled  each  year  to  raise 
and  reduce  to  discipline  a  new  army,  thus  crippling  himself  and  damaging 
the  cause  of  the  colonies  beyond  computation. 

Matters  in  and  before  Boston  remained  in  a  state  of  unbroken  quiet 
until  late  in  August,  when,  a  somewhat  better  organization  having  been 
effected,  and  the  supply  of  ammunition  being  increased,  Washington  deter 
mined  that  he  would,  if  possible,  provoke  a  sortie.  To  this  end  he  detached 
a  force  of  fourteen  hundred  men,  and  during  the  night  seized  and  fortified  a 
height  on  Charlestown  neck,  within  musket  shot  of  the  enemy's  lines.  At 
daybreak  the  astonished  British,  discovering  the  American  battery,  opened 
a  heavy  cannonading  from  Bunker's  hill,  but  kept  behind  their  defenses, 
and  did  little  damage.  The  Americans  had  not  sufficient  ammunition  to 


76  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

warrant  them  in  engaging  in  an  artillery  duel,  and  worked  busily  in  strength 
ening  their  works,  only  answering  the  fire  of  the  enemy  with  an  occasional 
shot  from  a  nine  pounder.  A  ball  from  one  of  these  sunk  a  British  floating 
battery,  but  the  expedient  was  fruitless  in  provoking  an  engagement. 


FIRST   CANADIAN    CAMPAIGN EVACUATION    OF    BOSTON.  77 


CHAPTER  XI. 

FIRST  CANADIAN  CAMPAIGN-EVACUATION  OF  BOSTON. 

THE  scope  of  this  work  will  not  permit  of  closely  following  the  move 
ments  of  the  war,  save  as  they  directly  involved  and  affected  the 
fortunes  of  the  commander  in  chief.  Active  operations  had  at  this  time 
been  commenced  in  the  North,  and,  with  varying  fortune,  these  were  con 
tinued  until,  at  one  time,  Canada  seemed  in  the  grasp  of  the  colonies.  Fort 
Ticonderoga  had  been  surprised  and  captured  by  Allen;  Crown  Point,  and, 
in  fact,  Lake  Champlain,  were  in  the  hands  of  the  colonists.  The  rivalry  of 
Arnold  and  Greene  had  resulted  in  an  advantage  for  Arnold  and  in  his  re 
maining  in  command  at  Ticonderoga. 

To  fully  appreciate  the  condition  of  affairs,  it  should  be  remembered 
that  Canada  was  a  recently  conquered  territory  of  Great  Britain  ;  that 
the  old  French  population  was  perforce  submissive — not  loyal ;  that  the 
settlement  of  English  and  Scotch  had  only  laid  the  foundation  for  the 
British  population  and  spirit  of  a  century  later.  The  old  forts  and  garrisons 
had  been  kept  up,  and  the  mission  of  reconciliation  and  peace  was  then 
preached  by  England,  as  later  in  India  and  Zululand,  with  cannon  and  mus 
kets  to  emphasize  its  arguments.  In  other  words,  England's  tenure  of 
Canada  was  but  little  more  than  an  armed  occupation.  Under  these  circum 
stances,  the  desirability  of  attaching  native  Canadians  to  the  cause  of  the 
revolting  colonies  was  obvious,  and  at  once  attracted  the  attention  of  Wash 
ington  and  others.  Nor  was  it  so  difficult  an  operation.  The  results  of  the 
expeditions  undertaken  clearly  prove  that,  with  little  more  adequate  means, 
even  with  the  slender  force  employed,  had  circumstances  been  more  favor 
able,  Canada  would  have  passed  from  British  control ;  the  guns  and  defences 
of  the  chain  of  forts  from  Detroit  to  Quebec,  would  have  been  turned 
against  the  king;  the  sympathy  and  assistance  of  His  Most  Christian  Maj 
esty  of  France  would  have  been  sooner  enlisted,  and  the  war  of  Indepen 
dence  must  have  been  more  speedily  terminated. 


78  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

In  accordance  with  this  idea,  it  was  arranged  that  Schuyler,  with  all  his 
available  force,  should  set  out  in  boats  from  Ticonderoga,  if  possible  reduce 
St.  Johns,  and  press  forward  against  Montreal  and  other  St.  Lawrence  posts. 
Having  secured  these  he  was  to  proceed  to  Quebec,  make  a  junction  with 
Benedict  Arnold,  who  had  orders  to  proceed  overland  through  Maine,  and, 
with  the  capture  of  Quebec,  complete  the  expulsion  of  the  British  from 
eastern  Canada  and  leave  the  surrender  of  Detroit  and  other  western  forts 
a  certainty.  Schuyler  was  then  at  Albany,  and  at  once  hastened  to  Ticon 
deroga  to  carry  out  his  orders,  while  Arnold  immediately  set  out,  with  about 
one  thousand  men,  on  his  perilous  march  toward  Quebec.  Arrived  at  Ticon 
deroga  Schuyler  found  that  Montgomery,  the  gallant  veteran  left  in  com 
mand  of  that  fort,  hearing  of  a  projected  movement  of  the  British  through 
the  Sorel,  against  Lake  Champlain,  had  already  embarked  a  force  and  moved 
northward.  Schuyler  followed,  though  so  ill  as  to  be  carried  aboard  a  boat 
on  his  bed.  He  found  Montgomery  still  moving  northward,  and  a  landing 
was  effected  on  the  Isle  aux  Noix,  twelve  miles  from  St.  Johns.  Ethan 
Allen  was  sent  out  to  obtain  recruits-  among  the  Canadians.  He  learned 
that  Montreal  was  but  slenderly  garrisoned,  and,  with  his  usual  disregard 
of  orders,  marched  against  it,  with  the  hope  of  repeating  his  Ticonderoga 
exploit.  In  this  he  failed,  his  men  were  scattered  or  captured,  and  he 
placed  in  irons  upon  a  British  man-of-war  and  sent  to  England,  where 
he  remained  in  confinement  until  1778.  In  the  meantime  the  move 
ment  against  St.  Johns  was  carried  on,  and  after  Allen's  fiasco,  Carle- 
ton  moved  to  its  relief  with  a  motley  force  of  regulars,  Canadians, 
and  Indians.  At  the  mouth  of  the  Sorel  he  was  surprised  and  com 
pelled  to  return  to  Montreal  with  loss.  St.  Johns  then  capitulated, 
and  with  its  much  needed  ordnance  and  stores  fell  into  the  hands  of 
Montgomery.  The  latter  at  once  pushed  on  to  the  St.  Lawrence,  and 
Carleton,  alarmed,  evacuated  Montreal  and  took  refuge  upon  one  of  the 
vessels  of  the  British  flotilla.  The  fleet  was  blockaded  by  the  Ameri 
can  batteries  at  the  mouth  of  the  Sorel  and  could  not  escape.  Montgomery 
took  possession  of  the  city  and  later  captured  the  fleet,  but  Carleton  had 
escaped  down  the  river  in  disguise. 

Now  came  the  sad  disappointment  and  the  ruin  of  a  campaign  so 
auspiciously  begun  and  so  bravely  prosecuted.  Arnold,  in  the  face  of 
inconceivable  hardship,  peril,  and  destitution,  had  ascended  to  the  head 
waters  of  the  Kennebec.  Thence  he  had  forced  himself  through  an  almost 
unbroken  and  trackless  wilderness,  and  emerged  upon  the  banks  of  the  St. 
Lawrence,  opposite  the  city  of  Quebec.  Spies  had  warned  the  British  com 
mander  of  his  danger,  and  every  boat  upon  the  southern  side  of  the  river 
had  been  removed  or  destroyed.  Undaunted  by  this  Arnold  embarked 
in  the  frail  bark  canoes  of  the  Indians,  crossed  the  river,  followed  the  brave 
Wolfe's  footsteps  to  the  plains  of  Abraham  and  stood  before  the  ancient  and 


FIRST    CANADIAN    CAMPAIGN — EVACUATION    OF    BOSTON.  79 

ill  garrisoned  city,  unsuspected  as  unannounced.  The  gate  of  St.  John's 
was  the  nearest  entrance,  and  Arnold,  with  his  seven  hundred  effective  men, 
desired  to  attack  it.  It  was  open,  and  unguarded,  and,  had  the  council  of 
war  which  overruled  the  commander  but  known  this,  Quebec  would  prob 
ably  have  fallen  ;  but,  alarmed  by  the  strong  defenses  of  the  city,  they  could 
not  bring  themselves  to  an  assault  with  a  force  of  but  seven  hundred  men, 
and  Arnold  reluctantly  gave  way  to  them.  Soon  the  city  was  aroused,  the 
gate  secured.  Arnold  sent  a  flag  demanding  surrender ;  the  flag  was  insulted. 
Another  flag  was  sent,  with  no  better  result,  when  he  withdrew  to  a  point 
fifteen  miles  up  the  river,  to  await  Montgomery.  Here  arose  the  trouble. 
Montgomery  had  no  sooner  gained  possession  of  Montreal,  and  captured 
the  flotilla  of  the  British,  than  he  proposed  to  proceed  at  once  to  Quebec. 
Then  he  was  shocked  and  disheartened  to  find  that  his  men,  save  only  a 
very  few,  refused  to  go  farther.  The  rigor  of  a  Canadian  winter  was  at 
hand,  the  time  of  service  was  almost  expired,  the  men  were  weary,  home 
sick,  and  insufficiently  clothed.  They  were  only  common,  little  educated 
men  ;  they  were  ill-disciplined,  and  knew  nothing  of  subordination, — all 
these  things  may  be  said  in  extenuation,  yet  the  fact  remains,  that  their 
desertion  was  a  base  and  ignominious  one,  and  the  source  of  incalculable 
injury  to  the  cause  which  was  their  own.  Priceless  hours  and  days  were 
lost  in  an  effort  to  induce  them  to  remain,  then  they  straggled  homeward, 
and  left  their  gallant  commander,  with  a  sad  remnant  of  his  force — only 
about  three  hundred  men — to  hasten  down  the  river  to  the  assistance  of 
Arnold. 

The  united  body  numbered  less  than  one  thousand  men.  Had  Mont 
gomery  been  able  to  bring  his  entire  force,  Quebec  must  have  capitulated  or 
fallen.  Now,  the  city  was  reinforced,  Carleton  was  in  command,  and  the 
demands  of  the  pitiful  body  of  men  without  its  walls  were  treated  with  con 
tempt.  The  watch  before  those  walls,  the  reiterated  demands  for  surrender, 
the  suffering  from  cold,  the  deaths  by  small  pox  and  other  diseases,  and  the 
final  assault, upon  that  snowy  morning — the  3ist  of  December,  1775 — when 
Montgomery,  with  but  seven  hundred  and  fifty  men,  sought  to  capture  a  walled 
and  garrisoned  town — all  this  stands  out  upon  the  pages  of  America's  record, 
as  one  of  the  bravest  and  most  glorious  efforts  in  her  history.  With  the  old 
year  went  out  the  life  of  the  noble  Montgomery,  and  many  another  brave 
fellow ;  Arnold,  wounded  and  grief-stricken,  dragged  himself  from  the  field 
with  his  handful  of  exhausted  and  disheartened  troops,  scarcely  five  hundred 
in  number,  and  sat  down  to  watch  before  the  walls  until  succor  should  come. 
But  Canada  was  lost.  A  victory  at  Quebec  would  have  brought  her  people 
flocking  to  the  colonial  standard  ;  a  defeat  depressed  and  discouraged  them. 
It  is  difficult  to  leave  this  brief  discussion  of  the  Canadian  expedition 
without  saying  a  word  for  Arnold.  Had  he  fallen  that  snowy  night,  his 
name  would  have  come  down  to  us  in  glorious  companionship  with  that  of 


SO  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

the  hero  Montgomery;  he  had  accomplished  in  his  march  to  Quebec  and 
his  demonstration  against  the  city,  one  of  the  most  brilliant  military  feats  in 
the  history  of  America ;  he  had  shown  himself  brave,  tireless,  and  devoted. 
He  had  overcome  the  final  difficulties  of  his  tremendous  march,  and  cast 
himself  in  the  face  of  the  enemy,  as  if  courting  death.  Had  he  done  such 
deeds  under  attainder  of  treason,  the  world  would  have  declared  him 
cleansed  of  sin  as  by  fire,  but,  with  all  the  glory  of  his  achievements  upon 
him,  he  fell,  the  only  traitor  of  the  Revolution. 

Washington  was,  in  the  meantime,  very  far  from  easy  concerning 
affairs  about  Boston.  The  former  serious  perplexities  of  his  position  were 
much  increased  by  the  approach  of  the  new  year,  at  which  time  the  term  of 
enlistment  of  his  soldiers  expired.  The  immediate  enthusiasm  which  had 
called  the  men  to  the  field  had  subsided ;  long  inactivity  had  discouraged 
them.  They  were  neither  so  well  fed,  clothed,  nor  lodged,  as  to  look  for 
ward  to  the  coming  of  winter  with  much  philosophy.  There  was,  of 
course,  a  considerable  element  of  the  army  moved  by  a  deeper  sense  of 
responsibility  and  duty;  this  Washington  knew  must  form  the  nucleus  of 
his  new  force.  His  labor  was  incessant ;  he  worked  personally  among  the 
men;  he  endeavored  to  excite  their  patriotism  by  artificial  means,  as  respira 
tion  is  sought  to  be  induced  in  a  half  drowned  person.  Patriotic  songs 
were  sung  and  music  played ;  officers  were  conjured  to  use  their  influence 
directly  with  their  troops.  Upon  the  near  approach  of  the  end  of  the  year 
the  various  colonies  were  requested  to  send  minute  men  and  militia  to 
strengthen  the  lines.  Such  came  forward  quite  liberally  from  some  of  the 
colonies,  but,  in  spite  of  this  contingent,  the  early  part  of  January  found 
the  army  of  investment  reduced  to  but  ten  thousand  men,  many  of  whom 
were  undisciplined  and  many  more  dissatisfied.  The  New  England  soldiers 
who  refused  to  remain  and  who  set  out  homeward,  found  their  way  anything 
but  a  path  of  roses.  People  along  the  road  would  scarcely  give  them  food 
or  shelter,  and  when  they  reached  their  homes  their  wives,  mothers,  and 
sisters  often  met  them  with  such  scorn  and  contempt  as  to  drive  them  back 
to  re-enlist.  Some  took  their  guns  and  equipments  with  them  by  stealth, 
and  an  order  was  made  that  every  man  should  leave  his  arms  behind,  though 
they  belonged  to  him  personally,  and  receive  a  fair  price  for  the  same,  so 
lacking  were  the  colonies  in  these  primary  means  of  pursuing  the  war. 
Washington  wrote  to  the  Governor  of  Massachusetts,  reflecting  in  sharp 
terms  upon  the  conduct  of  the  troops  from  his  colony,  and  received  the 
answer  sadly  admitting  the  justice  of  the  complaints  and  promising  every 
assistance  in  his  power  toward  making  up  the  loss.  In  these  trying  times 
the  cheerfulness  and  bravery  of  General  Greene  were  sources  of  the  great 
est  encouragement  and  satisfaction  to  Washington,  and  a  personal  confidence 
and  friendship  grew  up  between  them  which  no  circumstance  ever  inter 
rupted. 


FIRST    CANADIAN    CAMPAIGN EVACUATION    OF    BOSTON.  8 1 

Washington  found  himself  at  Boston  in  the  midst  of  a  circle  which 
called  for  the  exercise  of  a  certain  amount  of  formal  hospitality.  Himself 
too  deeply  engrossed  in  grave  affairs  to  give  personal  attention  to  social 
matters,  he  at  first  very  generally  entrusted  the  oversight  of  the  menage  to 
Mr.  Reed,  of  Philadelphia,  his  private  secretary — a  gentleman  of  great 
culture,  fully  competent  to  direct  such  affairs.  The  time  came  when  Reed 
was  compelled  to  resign  his  post  for  the  sake  of  his  private  interests,  and 
from  that  moment  Washington  was  at  sea  in  the  matter  of  his  various  dinners 
and  other  entertainments.  As  was  almost  inevitable  under  such  conditions, 
some  inadvertencies  or  disregard  of  strict  etiquette  caused  offense,  and  the 
report  of  this  fact  coming  to  the  ears  of  Reed,  he  wrote  to  Washington 
apprising  him  of  the  truth.  Washington's  answer,  disclaiming  intention 
of  slighting  anyone,  is  almost  pitiful  in  its  tone;  that  he,  with  the  lion  in 
his  path  and  the  burthen  of  the  colonies  upon  his  shoulders,  should  have 
been  annoyed  by  the  buzzing  ot  these  social  gnats,  does  indeed  seem 
enough  to  try  the  patience  of  a  man  even  more  patient  than  he.  All  dur 
ing  the  late  summer  and  fall  of  1/75,  reports  had  come  to  him  that  Lord 
Dunmore,  royal  Governor  of  Virginia,  was  breathing  out  threatenings  and 
slaughter  against  the  patriots  of  that  colony,  and  that  Mt.  Vernon  was  in 
danger.  Mrs.  Washington  was  at  Mt.  Vernon  and,  though  she  herself 
made  light  of  the  supposed  peril,  Washington,  by  a  letter  dispatched  to  her 
in  November  of  that  year,  advised  her  to  come  at  once  to  Cambridge.  She 
set  out  upon  the  toilsome  journey,  traveling  slowly,  detained  by  the  diffi 
culty  of  the  road  and  the  enthusiasm  of  the  people,  guarded  by  escorts 
furnished  by  the  various  colonies  through  which  she  passed,  though  she  her 
self  deemed  such  protection  superfluous,  at  last  arriving  at  headquarters  late 
in  the  year  17/5,  Her  splendid  equipage — a  carriage  drawn  by  four  black 
horses  from  the  famous  Mt.  Vernon  stud,  each  ridden  by  a  negro  servant, 
dressed  in  elaborate  livery — attracted  much  attention,  and  some  of  the  simple 
New  Englanders  did  not  hesitate  to  condemn  it  as  savoring  of  royalty.  No 
sooner  had  she  come,  than  the  social  difficulties  disappeared  from  the  head 
quarters  of  the  commander;  with  the  ready  grace  which  birth  and  breeding 
had  made  her  own,  she  assumed  her  right  as  domestic  dictator;  her  com 
bined  dignity  and  grace  made  the  administration  of  her  table  and  drawing- 
room  the  delight  and  wonder  of  the  gay  little  circle  which  had  grown  up 
under  the  stern  chaperonage  of  British  cannon,  and  from  that  day  invita 
tions  to  the  house  of  the  commander  were  as  eagerly  sought  as  a  hundred 
years  later  were  bids  to  the  table  of  the  great  poet  who  lived  beneath  the 
same  roof. 

January  was  a  dark  month  before  Boston,  but  through  its  earlier  days 
Washington  was  encouraged  by  the  well-founded  hope  that  good  news  from 
Canada  might  come  at  any  moment.  Early  in  the  month  there  was  a 
stir  of  preparation  in  the  harbor;  an  embarkation  was  evidently  contem- 


82  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

plated,  but  for  what  point,  whether  of  a  detachment,  or  whether  an  evacu 
ation  of  the  city,  no  one  not  in  the  loyalist  councils  could  say.  Congress 
and  its  military  leaders  had  been  greatly  exercised  over  a  letter  from  Lon 
don  exposing  a  British  plan  to  obtain  control  of  New  York  city  and 
Albany,  placing  strong  garrisons  in  each;  to  float  vessels  of  war  in  the 
Hudson  and  the  sound;  to  reduce  Ticonderoga  and  Crown  Point,  by  arms 
or  by  starvation,  and  to  establish  uninterrupted  communication  and  an 
efficient  co-operation  between  Quebec  and  New  York.  Even  an  unmili- 
tary  reader  can  see  how  disastrous  this  would  have  been  to  the  colonies. 
Cutting  them  effectually  in  twain,  it  would  have  enabled  the  British  to 
bring  down  levies  of  Canadians  and  Indians  from  the  North,  to  render 
effective  the  tory  spirit,  ever  stronger  in  New  York  than  elsewhere  in  Amer 
ica,  and  would,  in  fact,  have  been  the  death  blow  of  the  Revolution  and  of 
the  hopes  of  the  patriots. 

Hitherto,  Washington  had  not  acted  in  any  matter  of  great  importance 
without  specific  directions  from  Congress.  Though  such  a  supervision  was 
vexatious  and  useless,  it  had  not,  before,  threatened  disaster.  Now  it 
seemed  that  the  time  had  come  for  prompt  and  resolute  action.  General 
Lee,  who,  whatever  may  justly  be  said  against  him,  could  not  be  accused  of 
wavering  or  indecision,  had  but  just  returned  from  a  visit  to  Rhode  Island, 
where  he  had  gone  to  strengthen  the  patriotism  of  weak-kneed  colonists, 
and  to  devise  means  for  restraining  the  over-bold  tories,  who  were  openly 
avowing  their  loyalty  to  the  crown.  So  soon  as  Lee  learned  of  the  active 
preparations  on  the  part  of  the  British  for  removal  from  Boston,  he  urged 
upon  Washington  the  necessity  of  at  once  moving  to  occupy  New  York. 
He  claimed, — and  the  course  of  subsequent  campaigns  vindicated  his  sagacity 
— that  delay,  in  such  an  emergency,  would  surrender  to  the  British  all  that 
they  sought,  and  leave  the  Continental  force  powerless  to  resist.  Hence 
he  was  importunate  in  his  request  that  Washington  for  once  overlook  the 
general  rule  and  move  without  consulting  Congress.  He  acknowledged 
that  no  troops  could  with  safety  be  detached  from  Boston,  and  only  asked 
permission  to  go  to  Connecticut  and  raise  a  body  of  volunteers  for  the 
service,  relying  upon  the  co-operation  of  New  York  and  New  Jersey  levies 
for'  the  rest.  For  the  New  York  tories,  who  had  done  so  much  to  impede 
the  cause  of  the  colonies,  he  proposed  heroic  treatment.  All  were  to  be 
required  to  give  up  their  arms,  and  the  arms  so  obtained  to  be  used  in 
equipping  patriot  volunteers;  a  stringent  oath,  binding  them  to  abstain 
from  taking  part,  actively  or  otherwise,  against  the  colonies,  was  to  be  pro 
posed,  and  all  who  refused  it  to  be  imprisoned  for  the  public  safety;  the 
property  of  non-jurors  he  recommended  be  confiscated,  and,  an  appraisal  of 
all  property  of  royalists  being  made,  that  those  who  took  the  oath  should 
be  required  to  make  a  deposit  equal  to  half  the  value  of  their  possessions, 
as  security  for  good  behavior.  Washington  hesitated  somewhat  at  taking  so 


ISRAF.L   PUTNAM. 


FIRST    CANADIAN    CAMPAIGN — EVACUATION    OF    BOSTON.  83 

radical  and  so  independent  a  step.  He  bad  a  natural  veneration  for  authority, 
and  it  is  doubtful  if  he  would  so  far  have  ignored  Congress  had  not  John 
Adams,  one  of  the  leading  members  of  that  body,  been  at  the  time  in  Boston. 
To  him  the  commander  turned  for  advice,  and  Adams  agreed  with  Lee  as  to 
the  importance  of  immediate  action,  and  while  he  was  scarcely  prepared  to 
recommend  all  of  these  extreme  measures,  gave  such  advice  that  Washington 
empowered  the  younger  officer  to  proceed  to  execute  his  plan.  In  Connect 
icut  the  latter  met  with  unlocked  for  success.  Men  came  to  his  standard 
with  a  readiness  which,  as  he  said,  was  only  to  be  compared  with  their 
eagerness  to  go  home,  formerly  displayed  upon  every  occasion.  A  regi 
ment  had  already  been  organized  at  and  about  New  Haven,  for  a  special 
service,  and  was  just  disbanded,  by  order  of  Congress,  when  Lee  arrived. 
Governor  Trumbull,  however,  readily  consented  that  it  be  re-enlisted,  and, 
with  this  and  the  addition  of  a  large  number  of  other  volunteers,  Lee  was 
eoon  ready  to  move.  Consternation  seized  New  York.  Tories  saw,  in  the 
coming  of  a  Connecticut  army,  the  destruction  of  their  cherished  designs, 
while  Whigs  feared  that  its  coming  would  provoke  the  British  vessels  in 
the  harbor  to  a  bombardment,  that  New  York  would  be  made  a  battle 
ground,  and  the  city  destroyed.  Many  precipitately  fled  from  the  city, 
while  others,  of  both  parties,  besought  the  committee  of  safety  to  urge 
Arnold  not  to  cross  the  borders  of  the  state.  Pierre  Van  Cortland,  presi 
dent  of  the  committee,  wrote  such  a  letter  to  Lee,  begging  him  not  to  move 
into  New  York  at  once,  as,  from  lack  of  ammunition  and  fortification,  the 
city  was  not  then  in  a  condition  to  assail  the  fleet,  or  to  resist  its  attacks. 
Lee  replied  that  he  had  no  intentions  of  taking  offensive  steps  against 
the  British  at  that  time,  and,  if  the  ships  should  bombard  the  city,  he 
would  make  the  first  house  fired  by  their  shells,  the  funeral  pyre  of  some 
of  their  best  friends.  This  last  suggestion  was  not  of  a  character  to  soothe 
weak  tory  nerves,  and  both  parties  in  New  York  were  evidently  convinced 
that  they  had  to  deal  with  a  man  who  would  submit  to  no  trifling.  Lee, 
though  suffering  with  a  severe  attack  of  the  gout,  and  compelled  to  be 
borne  in  a  litter,  pushed  on  and  reached  New  York  on  the  4th  day  of  Feb 
ruary,  and  on  the  same  day  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  with  the  ships  of  war 
detached  from  Boston,  entered  the  harbor.  Finding  the  city  in  the  posses 
sion  of  a  superior  military  force,  he  shortly  withdrew,  saying  that  he  had 
only  come  to  pay  a  visit  to  "his  friend,  Governor  Tryon."  Lee,  in  a  letter 
written  to  Washington,  detailing  the  occurrence,  said  of  this  excuse:  "If 
it  is  really  so,  it  is  the  most  whimsical  piece  of  civility  I  ever  heard  of." 

Before  Lee  had  thus  carried  his  project  to  execution,  Washington's  hopes 
for  the  success  of  the  expedition  against  Canada  were  dashed  by  receiving  a 
letter  from  Schuyler,  detailing  the  disaster  at  Quebec.  The  reverse  was 
indeed  a  most  serious  one  to  the  colonies,  by  reason  of  its  direct  effects,  as 
entailing  the  necessity  of  either  quite  abandoning  Canada  or  of  reinforcing 


84  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

the  handful  of  men  remaining  beyond  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  as  well,  in  the 
loss  of  Montgomery,  one  of  the  bravest  and  wisest  of  the  patriot  generals. 
Washington  felt  deep  sorrow  at  the  reverse  of  his  arms  and  a  poignant  per 
sonal  grief  at  the  loss  of  his  friend  and  companion  in  arms.  The  difficulty 
of  reinforcement  was  met  and  a  fresh  force  dispatched  against  Canada.  Its 
failure  to  accomplish  the  desired  result  is  a  matter  of  general  history,  and  its 
incidents  cannot  be  followed  here,  but  the  news  from  the  North  redoubled 
Washington's  anxiety  to  protect  New  York  and  the  Hudson,  since  the  British 
bade  fair  to  command  the  St.  Lawrence,  if  not  the  Sorel  and  Lake  Champlain. 
In  the  meantime  something  was  to  be  done  in  central  New  York.  Tryon 
county  was  a  nest  of  tories.  Sir  John  Johnson's  strong  and  isolated  house 
at  Johnstown,  was  being  made  a  rallying  place ;  Johnson  had  armed  his 
Scotch  tenantry  and  Indian  neighbors,  fortified  his  hall,  and,  with  all  the 
bravery  of  an  old  feudal  knight  or  Highland  chieftain,  had  sent  out  his 
defiance  to  the  colonies.  In  case  the  necessity  for  opposing  the  ascent  of 
the  Hudson  should  arise,  Johnson  might  prove  more  than  an  annoyance  to 
the  rear  of  the  continental  force.  Hence  Schuyler  was  dispatched  from 
Albany  to  suppress  the  internal  uprising.  This  he  succeeded  in  doing, 
secured  the  capitulation  of  Sir  John,  placed  that  doughty  champion  on  his 
parole,  and  brought  away  in  triumph  the  arms,  stores,  and  ammunition 
which  had  been  accumulated  at  the  hall. 

Thus,  for  the  time,  New  York  and  Boston  became  the  centres  of  inter 
est.  Washington  sadly  regretted  that  he  had  been  overruled  in  his  plan  to 
attack  the  latter  at  an  early  day  in  the  siege.  That  which  he  most  desired 
was  a  decisive  engagement,  before  the  British  government  should  reinforce 
their  American  army  to  such  a  degree  as  to  make  the  venture  unsafe.  As 
he  himself  said,  they  had  been  waiting  for  nearly  a  year  for  the  river  to 
freeze,  so  that  an  assault  in  force  might  be  made  upon  the  city,  and  when 
the  much  desired  opportunity  came  the  council  of  war  deemed  the  attempt 
undesirable.  In  the  meantime  the  army,  the  people,  and  even  Congress 
were  becoming  restive  under  their  continual  inaction,  and  many,  ignorant  of 
the  true  condition  of  affairs,  were  ready  to  blame  the  commander  that  more 
had  not  been  done.  One  of  Washington's  letters  to  Mr.  Reed — letters 
which  by  their  open  confidence  give  the  best  knowledge  of  the  general's 
perplexities  and  troubles  in  those  trying  times — says :  "  My  own  situation 
is  so  irksome  to  me  at  times  that,  if  I  did  not  consult  the  public  good  more 
than  my  own  tranquility,  I  should  long  ere  this  have  put  everything  on  the 
cast  of  a  die.  So  far  from  my  having  an  army  of  twenty  thousand  men, 
well  armed,  I  have  been  here  with  less  than  one-half  that  number,  including 
sick,  furloughed,  and  on  command  ;  and  those  neither  armed  nor  clothed  as 
they  should  be.  In  short,  my  situation  has  been  such  that  I  have  been 
obliged  to  use  art  to  conceal  it  from  my  own  officers." 

The  winter  thus  wore  away,  until  came  the  month  of  February.     Gag<? 


FIRST    CANADIAN    CAMPAIGN — EVACUATION    OF    BOSTON.  8$ 

had  long  since  given  way  to  Howe,  as  commander  of  the  British  forces. 
Spring  was  at  hand,  and,  with  its  coming,  active  operations  were  to  be 
looked  for.  Clinton  was  prowling  along  the  southern  coast,  with  unknown 
destination,  but  no  uncertain  object.  He  felt  the  coast  of  Virginia,  but 
found  the  colonial  forces  too  strong  to  warrant  molestation.  Then  he  sailed 
away  to  the  southward,  to  meet,  later,  a  defeat  at  the  hands  of  the  gallant 
Moultrie.  In  the  meantime  some  reinforcements  had  come  to  Washington, 
at  Boston  ;  Knox  had  returned  from  Ticonderoga,  with  much  needed  artil 
lery,  and  a  supply  of  ammunition  had  been  received  from  New  York.  The 
time  to  strike  had  evidently  come.  Washington  called  upon  the  colony  of 
Massachusetts  to  hold  its  militia  in  readiness,  and  laid  his  plans  to  arm 
Lechmere  Point,  already  fortified  by  Putnam,  with  heavy  ordnance,  to  seize 
and  fortify  Dorchester  heights,  and  thus,  commanding  the  town  from  both 
north  and  south,  to  force  Howe  either  to  an  engagement,  or  to  evacuation. 
He  also  contemplated  holding  the  works  at  Lechmere,  with  a  body  of 
picked  men,  under  Putnam,  who  should,  in  case  of  a  general  attack  upon 
the  Dorchester  works,  at  once  move  upon  the  city  from  the  opposite  side. 
This  was  a  beautifully  laid  plan  ;  its  execution  was  wonderful.  The  night 
of  Monday,  March  4th,  was  set  for  the  attempt.  During  the  nights  of  the 
2d  and  3d,  the  army  was  kept  busy  in  preparing  gabions  and  large,  com 
pact  bundles  of  hay,  to  be  used  in  erecting  works,  which  the  frozen  condi 
tion  of  the  ground  rendered  difficult.  In  the  meantime  a  heavy  artillery 
fire  was  kept  up  with  the  intention  of  diverting  attention  from  the  work  of 
preparation,  and  answered  by  the  British.  In  this  it  proved  quite  successful. 
How  little  of  its  real  meaning  was  suspected,  may  be  gathered  from  the  fol 
lowing  excerpt,  from  a  letter  written  on  the  3d,  by  a  British  officer  to  a 
friend  at  home :  "  For  these  last  six  weeks,  or  near  two  months,  we  have 
been  better  amused  than  could  possibly  have  been  expected  in  our  situation. 
We  had  a  theater,  we  had  balls,  and  there  is  actually  a  subscription  on  foot 
for  a  masquerade.  England  seems  to  have  forgotten  us,  and  we  have 
endeavored  to  forget  ourselves.  But  we  were  aroused  to  a  sense  of  our 
situation  last  night,  in  a  manner  unpleasant  enough.  The  rebels  have  been, 
for  some  time  past,  erecting  a  bomb  battery,  and  last  night  began  to  play 
upon  us.  Two  shells  fell  not  far  from  me.  One  fell  on  Colonel  Monckton's 
house,  but  luckily  did  not  burst  until  it  had  crossed  the  street.  Many 
houses  were  damaged,  but  no  lives  lost.  ....  The  rebel 
army  is  not  brave,  I  believe,  but  it  is  agreed,  on  all  hands,  that  their  artil 
lery  officers  are  at  least  equal  to  ours." 

On  Monday  evening,  under  cover  of  a  heavy  cannonade,  two  thousand 
men,  with  three  hundred  wagons,  laden  with  intrenching  tools,  set  out, 
under  command  of  General  Thomas,  from  the  lines  at  Roxbury  and  Dor 
chester.  A  line  of  bundles  of  hay  had  been  ranged  along  the  exposed  side 
of  the  Neck,  to  protect  the  moving  troops,  in  case  of  discovery.  Arrived 


86  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

upon  the  heights,  the  party  divided,  and  the  arduous  work  of  fortification 
was  begun.  The  scene,  taken  in  its  full  significance,  was  indeed  an  impres 
sive  one.  Washington  was  himself  on  the  ground.  The  moon  was  out, 
and  far  below,  on  one  side,  could  be  seen  the  streets  and  fortifications  of 
the  beleaguered  city;  beyond  the  bay,  with  its  silent  fleet;  on  the  other  hand 
lay  the  camp  of  the  little  army  of  the  patriots.  Between,  working  silently, 
save  for  the  blows  of  mattocks  upon  the  frozen  ground,  the  thud  of  falling 
clods,  and  now  and  then  a  whispered  order,  the  busy  workers,  upon  whose 
silence  and  industry  so  much  depended  ;  on  either  hand,  the  roar  of  the 
guns,  and,  overhead,  the  shrill  shrieking  of  the  shells.  Discovered  too 
soon,  the  guns  or  bayonets  of  the  British  would  drive  the  pioneers  from 
their  posts,  and  the  reduction  of  Boston  would  be  delayed  until  too  late. 
But  it  was  not  discovered  until  daylight  revealed  to  the  astonished  gaze  of 
the  awakened  British  two  forts,  so  far  advanced  as  to  protect  the  workers 
within  from  the  guns  of  the  city.  Howe  saw  them  and  exclaimed:  "The 
rebels  have  done  more  work  in  one  night,  than  my  whole  army  would  have 
done  in  one  month."  What  a  position  for  Howe,  the  chosen  officer  of  the 
King!  He  had  but  shortly  before  written  to  his  superiors,  at  home,  that 
nothing  was  to  be  feared  from  the  rebel  army  ;  that  he  would  be  pleased 
at  an  attack,  and  would  hold  Boston,  until  reinforcements  should  come.  In 
the  face  of  this  self-satisfied  boast,  he  now  saw  before  him  no  other  prospect 
than  either  to  make  an  assault  upon  the  superior  position  of  the  continental 
force,  the  wise  placing  of  which  counterbalanced  all  his  advantages,  derived 
from  the  training,  discipline  and  equipment  of  troops,  or  to  stultify  himself 
before  the  home  government  by  an  evacuation  of  the  city.  It  is  probable 
that  the  latter  course,  from  the  first,  appealed  to  his  wisdom,  but  the  former 
had  the  advocacy  of  his  pride,  and  that  fact  decided  his  course. 

All  day,  on  the  5th  of  March,  cannon  thundered,  and  shot  and  shell 
poured  into  the  opposing  fortifications.  The  Americans  were  enthusiastic 
and  confident,  and  the  British  dogged  and  desperate.  A  night  attack  had 
been  determined  upon  by  Howe,  and,  before  darkness  fell,  two  thousand 
five  hundred  men  had  been  embarked  for  the  service.  But  the  God  of  bat 
tles  willed  that  no  attack  be  made  ;  with  the  falling  of  the  sun  arose  the 
wind,  and  before  preparations  for  advance  were  completed,  the  surf  was 
dashing  high  and  dangerous  upon  the  farther  shore,  and,  for  that  night  at 
least,  it  was  necessary  to  forego  the  project.  The  next  day  and  the  next 
night  were  tempestous  as  well,  and,  through  it  all — the  storm  and  darkness 
at  night,  the  storm  and  iron  hail  by  day — the  Americans  labored  upon  their 
defenses,  so  that,  at  last,  when  the  wind  fell  and  the  sea  was  calm,  Howe  saw 
that,  to  force  his  men  up  that  steep  ascent,  in  the  face  of  such  fearful  odds, 
would  be  no  better  than  murder  ;  hence  he  decided  upon  evacuation,  and 
orders  to  that  effect  were  promulgated.  The  city  was  at  once  the  scene  of 
wildest  confusion ;  the  lighter  artillery,  stores,  and  arms ;  the  sick  and 


FIRST    CANADIAN    CAMPAIGN EVACUATION    OF    BOSTON.  87 

wounded ;  the  wives  and  families  of  officers  and  soldiers  ;  the  tories,  their 
families  and  household  goods — all  these  were  to  be  embarked.  In  addition 
there  was  a  great  work  of  destruction  performed ;  such  heavy  ordnance  as 
could  not  be  removed  was  dismounted,  or  otherwise  rendered  useless ; 
orders  were  given  to  remove  to  the  fleet  all  clothing,  and  cotton,  and  woolen 
goods,  which  might  be  of  value  to  the  continental  army,  and,  acting  upon 
these  orders,  shops  and  private  dwellings  were  sacked,  and  even  furniture 
and  pictures  defaced  and  destroyed.  Howe  was  determined  not  to  make 
capitulation,  but  he  dropped  hints  to  some  patriotic  citizens,  that  if  the  army 
were  allowed  to  embark  unmolested,  the  city  would  be  spared,  but,  other 
wise,  it  would  be  burned  behind  them.  This  report  reached  Washington, 
and,  knowing  that  the  sufferers  by  such  a  retaliation  would  be  those  of  cer 
tain  sympathy  with  himself,  he  allowed  the  embarkation  to  proceed,  hastened 
to  the  point  of  absolute  confusion  by  the  erection  of  a  battery  on  Nooks'  hill, 
accomplished  in  the  face  of  a  fierce  cannonading,  on  the  i6th  of  March. 
At  4  o'clock,  on  the  I7th  of  March,  the  troops  and  loyalist  citizens  began  to 
move  aboard  the  seventy-eight  vessels  which  lay  in  the  harbor  ;  on  the 
same  day  a  continental  force  entered  the  city,  and,  on  the  day  following, 
Washington  himself  made  his  informal  entry. 

Thus  ended  one  of  the  most  remarkable  military  episodes  in  the  history 
of  the  world.  There  have  been  more  brilliant  and  showy  achievements,  but 
none  greater  in  the  true  sense  of  greatness.  Washington  was  called  to  be 
commander  in  chief  of  an  army  yet  to  be  created  from  the  heterogeneous 
material  called  together  by  the  emergencies  at  Concord  and  Lexington,  and 
lying  before  Boston  with  no  allegiance  save  to  their  respective  colonies,  rec 
ognizing  no  obligation  to  obey  any  but  their  own  immediate  officers,  utterly 
undisciplined  as  were  the  Parisian  street  mobs  of  '93,  ill  clothed,  ill  armed 
and  ill  equipped.  Coming  as  the  representative  of  a  new  central  power, 
as  yet  but  half  recognized,  and  under  the  guns  of  a  veteran  army,  skillful  in 
war,  equipped  with  all  of  war's  best  appliances,  he  organized  not  one  but 
two  armies ;  he  for  months  held  the  flower  of  the  British  army  cooped,  like 
fowls,  in  Boston,  when,  at  times,  he  had  not  ten  thousand  efficient  men  to 
array  against  them,  and  on  at  least  one  occasion  had  not  powder  to  fire  a  can 
non,  after  filling  the  cartridge  boxes  of  his  men.  Again  and  again  a  prompt 
movement  on  the  part  of  the  British  could  not  have  failed  of  success,  yet 
that  movement  was  never  made,  and  in  spite  of  discontent  from  within  the 
ranks,  tardiness  and  lack  of  support  in  Congress,  and  criticism  from  without, 
he  finally  took  the  initiative  and  compelled  the  British  to  slink  away  from 
before  his  raw  levies,  without  firing  a  shot  or  making  a  demonstration  in 
resistance. 

Washington  went  to  Philadelphia  in  response  to  the  summons  of  Con 
gress,  to  find  himself  subjected  to  troubles  as  annoying  as  any  he  had  met 
in  the  field.  He  had  to  overcome  the  conservative  feeling  which  had  not 


88  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

yet  learned  to  recognize  as  inevitable  the  separation  of  the  colonies  from  the 
mother  country.  He  labored  under  every  disadvantage  in  convincing  Con 
gress  of  the  necessity  of  reforming  its  military  policy  and  placing  the 
armies  of  the  colonies  upon  an  effective  basis.  His  experience  in  the  past 
had  proved  the  truth  of  the  epigram,  "More  soldiers  are  killed  by  the 
legislation  of  their  friends  than  by  the  bullets  of  their  enemies."  He 
did  not  mince  matters  in  his  consultations  at  Philadelphia;  he  declared 
reconciliation  to  be  a  dangerous  chimera;  he  quoted  the  action  of  the 
British  in  subsidizing  foreign  troops — news  of  which  course  had  lately  been 
received — as  indicating  a  similar  view  on  the  part  of  Great  Britain.  He  did 
not  go  to  Congress  with  the  prestige  of  uniform  success.  As  commander 
in  chief  he  was  compelled  to  bear  the  burthen  of  all  the  military  operations 
of  the  country,  and  the  later  enterprises  in  Canada,  under  Thomas,  had  not 
resulted  much  more  fortunately  than  those  under  Montgomery.  After 
holding  Carleton  a  prisoner  in  Quebec  for  more  than  five  months,  burning 
the  suburbs  and  battering  the  walls  of  the  city,  the  Americans  had  been  com 
pelled  by  the  arrival  of  reinforcements,  and  by  a  sortie  of  Carleton,  to 
retire  to  Point  Deschamboult,  sixty  miles  from  Quebec,  and  await  reinforce 
ments.  In  the  face  of  this  disaster  Washington  succeeded  in  persuading 
Congress  to  provide  that  soldiers  be  enlisted  for  two  years,  and  that  a  bounty 
often  dollars  be  paid  to  every  man  so  enlisting;  that  the  army  at  New  York, 
pending  the  carrying  out  of  this  arrangement,  should  be  reinforced  until  the 
1st  of  December,  by  a  force  of  thirteen  thousand  eight  hundred  militia;  that 
fire  ships  be  constructed  to  prevent  the  entry  of  the  British  fleet  into  the 
harbor  of  New  York,  and  that  a  flying  camp  of  ten  thousand  troops  be 
stationed  in  New  Jersey  for  the  protection  of  the  middle  colonies.  In  addi 
tion,  Washington  was  given  authority  to  call  upon  the  militia  of  the  adjacent 
colonies,  in  case  of  emergency. 

Hitherto,  the  prosecution  of  the  war  had  been  clumsily  and  inade 
quately  provided  for,  by  the  reference  of  war  questions  to  various  commit 
tees.  The  commander  now  urged  the  organization  of  a  war  department, 
and,  as  a  consequence,  was  established  a  Board  of  War  and  Ordnance,  con 
sisting  of  five  members,  whose  duties  began  January  I2th.  In  the  mean 
time  Virginia  had  formulated  the  public  opinion  of  the  country  by  declaring 
in  favor  of  independence.  This  movement,  coming  from  his  own  colony, 
received  the  warmest  commendation  of  Washington.  The  "spasm  of  com 
mon  sense"  which  seized  the  Congress  and  resulted  in  all  these  enactments 
looking  to  the  reform  of  the  army,  did  not  result  in  bringing  about  the  final 
and  most  effective  legislation  until  June  of  the  year  1776.  Had  it  come 
sooner  its  effect  would  have  been  vastly  greater.  The  first  enthusiasm  of 
the  war  had  passed  away  in  the  face  of  the  hardships  and  privations  of  the 
service.  Men  who  were  ready  at  the  outset  to  rush  to  arms  with  no  ques 
tion  of  pay%  were  not  now  to  be  tempted  by  the  offered  bounty,  and 


FIRST    CANADIAN    CAMPAIGN EVACUATION    OF    BOSTON.  89 

recruits  came  but  slowly.  Then,  too,  the  announcement  came  too  late  to 
be  efficient  in  the  impending  campaign.  Had  Congress  authorized  long 
enlistment  and  an  offer  of  bounty  in  March,  or  even  April,  the  disasters 
which  overtook  the  army  at  New  York  and  on  the  Hudson  might  instead 
have  been  victories;  the  British  troops  might  have  been  defeated  and  driven 
to  their  ships,  or  at  least  placed  upon  the  defensive,  and  the  whole  com 
plexion  of  the  war  changed. 

The  first  legislative  embodiment  of  the  idea  of  independence  was  in 
the  famous  resolution  offered  in  the  Continental  Congress  by  Richard 
Henry  Lee.  Its  import  did  not  materially  differ  from  that  of  the  final  dec 
laration,  but  it  served  to  place  the  question  in  form  for  a  debate.  The  peo 
ple  at  large  were  ripe  for  it;  its  discussion  had  been  constant  for  weeks,  and 
the  old-time  obstinate  loyalty  to  the  crown  was  a  thing  of  the  past.  Dur 
ing  the  Congress,  provision  had  been  made  for  the  establishment  of  definite 
colonial  government,  with  powers  constitutionally  stated  and  limited,  in 
every  colony  save  Connecticut  and  Rhode  Island,  which  were  deemed  already 
sufficiently  organized.  Lee's  resolution  was  offered  on  the  7th  of  June,  and 
embodied  the  declaration  that  "these  United  States  are,  and  of  right  ought 
to  be  free  and  independent  States ;  that  all  political  ties  between  them  and 
the  State  of  Great  Britain  is  and  ought  to  be  totally  dissolved."  The  resolu 
tion  was  seconded  by  John  Adams,  and  came  up  for  discussion  in  the  commit 
tee  of  the  whole,  on  the  8th  and  loth  of  June.  It  was  found  during  this  dis 
cussion  that  the  delegates  for  New  York,  New  Jersey,  Pennsylvania,  Dela 
ware,  Maryland,  and  South  Carolina,  while  many  of  them  personally  favored 
the  resolution,  lacked  the  instructions  of  their  constituents  on  the  subject, 
or  were  affirmatively  directed  to  oppose  such  a  measure,  and  the  debate 
was  held  over  until  the  first  day  of  July.  In  the  meantime  a  committee 
was  appointed  to  prepare  a  draft  of  a  declaration  of  independence.  Upon 
this  committee  was  the  young  statesman,  Thomas  Jefferson,  and,  Lee  being 
called  to  Virginia,  the  preparing  of  the  draft  fell  to  his  lot.  It  may  be  well 
to  say,  at  this  point,  that,  though  there  have  been  periodical  discussions  in 
which  it  has  been  urged  that  Jefferson  was  not  the  author  of  the  declaration, 
there  is  no  question  that,  though  he  made  use  of  his  historical  knowledge, 
and  of  the  advice  of  his  friends,  to  him  belongs  the  credit  of  the  framing 
of  that  splendid  document.  The  draft  was  submitted  on  the  28th  of  June, 
but  was  laid  upon  the  table  to  await  the  re-opening  of  the  debate.  On  the 
1st  day  of  July  the  discussion  was  re-opened,  and  the  resolution  came  to  a 
vote  on  the  evening  of  the  same  day.  It  received  the  affirmative  votes  of 
New  Hampshire,  Connecticut,  Massachusetts,  Rhode  Island,  New  Jersey, 
Maryland,  Virginia,  North  Carolina,  and  Georgia,  against  Pennsylvania  and 
South  Carolina.  Delaware  was  divided,  and  the  delegates  of  New  York, 
though  some  expressed  individual  approval  of  the  resolution,  requested  to 
be  excused  from  voting,  on  the  ground  of  lack  of  instruction.  Mr.  Rut- 


gO  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

ledge,  of  South  Carolina,  believed  that  the  vote  of  his  colleagues  would  be 
changed,  and,  at  his  request,  the  report  was  postponed  until  Saturday,  the  2d, 
when  South  Carolina  wheeled  into  the  affirmative  line,  as  did  Delaware  and 
Pennsylvania ;  and  thus  the  resolution  was  carried  unanimously  by  all  voting 
delegations.  On  that  Saturday  evening  John  Adams  wrote  :  ' '  The  2d  of  July 
will  be  the  most  memorable  epoch  in  the  history  of  America.  I  am  apt  to 
believe  that  it  will  be  celebrated  by  succeeding  generations  as  the  great  anni 
versary  festival.  It  ought  to  be  commemorated  as  the  day  of  deliverance,  by 
solemn  acts  of  devotion  to  Almighty  God.  It  ought  to  be  solemnized  by 
pomp  and  parade,  with  shows,  games,  sports,  guns,  bells,  bonfires,  and  illu 
minations,  from  one  end  of  this  continent  to  the  other,  from  this  time  forth 
forevermore. "  Adams  well  foresaw  the  regard  in  which  the  grand  act  of  the 
Congress  would  ever  be  held ;  he  was  only  wrong  as  to  the  day  of  celebra 
tion.  On  Monday,  Congress  discussed  the  proposed  declaration  with  closed 
doors,  throngs  without  anxiously  awaiting  the  report  of  the  result.  Finally 
the  bell  in  the  tower  of  the  hall  rang  out  a  glad  peal,  and  all  within  sound 
of  its  tidings  knew  that  America  had  at  last  declared  her  freedom  from  for 
eign  rule.  News  traveled  but  slowly  in  those  days,  but,  with  all  haste,  the 
report  of  the  action  of  Congress  was  circulated  throughout  the  colonies. 
In  New  England  it  was  generally  approved.  In  New  York,  and  to  the  south 
ward,  a  majority  hailed  the  news  with  gladness,  while  a  considerable  minor 
ity  held  such  a  declaration  to  be  unwise,  and  many  considered  its  adoption  a 
moral  wrong.  The  tories,  everywhere,  held  up  their  hands  in  horror.  The 
ruin  of  America  they  deemed  irrevocably  assured.  Weak-kneed  colonists 
who  had  before  professed  devotion  to  the  patriot  cause,  found  in  the  declara 
tion  an  excuse  for  cutting  loose  from  their  allegiance,  and  thus,  while  there 
was  no  loss  of  any  valuable  class  or  element,  the  patriots  were  the  better  for 
the  drainage  of  impurities  which  would  doubtless  have  tended  to  the  injury 
of  their  cause.  The  news  of  the  declaration  came  to  Washington  on  the 
9th  of  July  and,  at  6  o'clock  of  the  same  evening,  he  caused  it  to  be  read  at 
the  head  of  every  brigade  of  his  army,  accompanied  by  an  expression  from 
him,  of  which  the  following  is  a  portion:  "The  General  hopes  that  this 
important  event  will  serve  as  a  fresh  incentive  to  every  officer  and  soldier  to 
act  with  fidelity  and  courage,  as  knowing  that  now  the  peace  and  safety  of 
his  country  depend,  under  God,  solely  on  the  success  of  our  arms,  and  that 
he  is  now  in  the  service  of  a  state  possessed  of  sufficient  power  to  reward 
his  merit,  and  advance  him  to  the  highest  honors  of  a  free  country."  New 
York  city,  always  subject  to  great  excitement,  went  fairly  wild  over  the 
news,  and,  in  an  excess  of  enthusiasm,  which  it  is  now  easy  to  pardon, 
overturned  a  leaden  statue  of  George  III.,  which  stood  in  the  city,  broke  it 
into  small  fragments,  and,  with  strict  poetic  justice,  the  remains  of  the 
royal  effigy  were  melted  into  bullets. 


1HE    OCCUPATION    OF    NEW    YORK. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE    OCCUPATION    OF    NEW    YORK. 

HP*  HE  evacuation  of  Boston  was  a  bitter  lesson  to  the  British.  The 
duke  of  Manchester,  in  the  House  of  Lords,  embodied  in  a  few 
caustic  words,  his  estimate  of  the  achievement.  He  said:  "The  army  ot 
Britain,  equipped  with  every  possible  essential  of  war;  a  chosen  army  with 
chosen  officers,  backed  by  the  power  of  a  mighty  fleet,  sent  to  correct 
revolted  subjects  ;  sent  to  chastise  a  resisting  city ;  sent  to  assert  Britain's 
authority  ; — has  for  many  tedious  months  been  imprisoned  within  that  town 
by  the  provincial  army,  who,  with  their  watchful  guard,  permitted  them  no 
inlet  to  the  country ;  who  braved  all  their  efforts  and  defied  all  that  skill 
and  ability  in  war  could  ever  attempt.  One  way,  indeed,  of  escape  was  left; 
the  fleet  is  still  respected  ;  to  the  fleet  the  army  has  recourse  ;  and  British 
generals,  whose  names  never  met  with  a  blot  of  dishonor,  are  forced  to  quit 
that  town,  which  was  the  first  object  of  the  war,  the  immediate  cause  of 
hostilities,  the  place  of  arms,  which  it  has  cost  this  nation  more  than  a 
million  to  defend." 

John  Adams  moved,  and  Congress  adopted,  a  vote  of  thanks  to  Wash 
ington,  and  a  commemorative  gold  medal  was  struck  off,  bearing  upon  its 
face  the  head  and  name  of  the  commander,  as  the  deliverer  of  Boston. 

When  General  Howe  sailed  from  Boston  harbor  he  directed  his  course 
for  Halifax,  there  to  await  the  coming  of  his  brother,  Admiral  Lord  Wil 
liam  Howe,  who  had  been  assigned  to  the  naval  command  in  America,  and 
whose  coming,  with  reinforcements  for  both  fleet  and  army,  was  daily 
expected.  He  did  not  proclaim  his  intentions,  and  Washington  was  far 
from  certain  as  to  what  the  next  manifestations  of  his  military  sagacity  might 
be.  One  of  two  movements,  however,  seemed  much  more  probable  than  any 
others;  either  he  would  direct  his  attention  to  the  relief  of  Montreal,  Que 
bec,  and  the  St.  Lawrence  frontier,  or  he  would  move  against  New  York 
city.  The  weight  of  probability  seemed  in  favor  of  the  latter  plan,  and 


p2  GEORGE    WASHINGTON, 

Washington  determined  to  turn  his  attention  to  placing  that  city  and  its 
environs  in  a  state  admitting  of  defense,  by  carrying  out  the  plan  of  fortifi 
cation  originated  by  Lee.  The  latter  officer  had  been  relieved  from  com 
mand  at  New  York  to  be  sent  to  Canada  (a  service  which  he  never  under 
took),  and  now  Putnam  was  placed  in  charge  of  the  garrison  of  the  city, 
with  instructions  to  push  the  work  of  fortification  with  all  possible  rapidity. 
Lee  had  believed,  or  affected  to  believe,  that  upon  his  removal  from  New 
York,  that  city  would  fall  into  its  old  condition  of  tory  ascendency,  and 
that  the  cause  of  the  colonies  would  suffer.  His  fear  was  groundless,  for 
Putnam,  while  he  was  not  so  much  given  to  talking  as  was  Lee,  was  fully  as 
efficient  a  disciplinarian.  Under  his  direction,  the  communication  between 
the  tories  on  shore  and  Governor  Tryon  and  the  British  on  the  fleet,  was 
for  the  first  time,  substantially,  if  not  actually,  cut  off  The  troops  were 
held  to  the  most  exact  behavior,  and,  after  a  given  hour  at  night,  civilians 
of  the  city  were  not  allowed  abroad  unless  furnished  with  the  countersign. 
Probably  few  cities  were  ever  so  orderly  during  a  military  occupation. 

Lee's  plan  of  defense  requires  to  be  briefly  explained,  that  the  later 
movements  about  the  island  may  be  better  understood.  It  contemplated 
the  erection  of  a  strong  redoubt  commanding  the  pass  of  Hell  Gate,  that 
communication  between  Long  Island  and  the  main  land  might  be  cut  off; 
the  secure  fortification  of  King's  bridge,  and  the  enlarging  and  better  arm 
ing  of  the  two  forts  already  commanding  the  highlands  of  the  Hudson. 
The  force  under  Putnam,  increased  by  Connecticut  and  New  Jersey  militia, 
began  the  prosecution  of  this  defensive  work.  So  soon  as  the  British  fleet 
had  actually  deserted  the  vicinity  of  Boston,  Washington  ordered  all  of  his 
army,  save  a  sufficient  garrison  for  the  recaptured  city,  to  march  to  New 
York,  and,  himself  preceding  them  to  that  city,  took  personal  charge  of 
the  work. 

He  had  not  been  long  in  his  new  field  before  he  was  summoned  by 
Congress  to  Philadelphia.  The  importance  of  the  military  movement  pro 
jected,  the  necessity  of  raising  a  large  additional  force,  for  service  in  the 
three  campaigns  of  Canada,  New  York,  and  the  South,  the  division  of  senti 
ment,  in  and  out  of  Congress,  on  the  subject  of  the  war — all  these  called 
for  a  degree  of  decision  and  wisdom  which  the  Continental  Congress  seemed 
to  lack.  The  transition  stage  in  the  opinion  of  the  colonies  had  come. 
The  last  desire  for  reconciliation  was  fast  giving  way  to  the  dawning 
spirit  of  independence.  The  absurdity  of  retaining  a  formal  allegiance  to  a 
king,  while  in  open  war  against  him,  had  begun  to  force  itself  upon  the 
people.  With  this  determination  came  the  obvious  necessity  of  making 
provision  for  the  war,  not  as  a  matter  of  weeks,  but  as  a  serious  contest, 
never  to  end  save  with  decisive  results.  Half  way  reform  measures  had 
failed  of  effect.  The  former  system  of  enlisting  men  for  one  year  and  thus 
allowing  the  army  to  annually  fall  to  pieces  about  the  ears  of  its  commanders, 


OCCUPATION    OF    NEW    YORK. 


93 


was  so  obviously  mistaken  as  to  lead  Congress  to  look  for  means  of  remedy. 
During  the  month  of  June  a  woman  came  to  Washington's  headquarters 
at  New  York  and  desired  to  speak  with  the  commander  privately.  This 
request  was  readily  granted,  whereupon  she  warned  him  that  his  life  was 
in  danger  by  reason  of  a  plot  then  ripening  among  the  tories,  to  assas 
sinate  him  and  as  many  of  the  other  general  officers  as  possible,  imme 
diately  upon  the  arrival  of  the  British  in  the  harbor.  The  assassination  was 
to  be  followed  by  a  general  uprising  of  so-called  loyalists,  who  were  to  put 
off  in  boats  to  join  the  British  army.  The  account  given  was  so  straight 
forward  and  honest  in  its  appearance  as  to  invite  belief,  and  an  investigation 
was  at  once  begun.  The  result  was  to  expose  an  organized  conspiracy,  con 
trived  and  directed  by  Tryon,  from  the  security  of  a  British  man-of-war. 
With  the  assistance  of  his  friends  on  shore  he  had  perfected  an  organization 
of  tories,  extending  throughout  New  York  city,  to  a  considerable  distance  up 
the  Hudson,  and  into  New  Jersey.  It  reached  all  classes  of  society,  includ 
ing  the  mayor  and  many  leading  merchants  of  the  city,  and  even  embraced 
some  members  of  the  life  guard  of  the  commander.  It  was  a  pot-house  con 
spiracy,  involving  the  keepers  of  many  houses  of  entertainment.  The  pub 
licans  were  themselves  active  participants  in  the  plot,  and  lent  their  houses 
as  meeting  places  for  the  traitors.  Tryon  had  made  David  Matthews,  the 
tory  mayor,  his  principal  agent  for  organizing  a  tory  contingent,  offering 
bounties,  and  corrupting  Washington's  soldiers.  Matthews  lived  at  Hat- 
bush,  on  Long  Island.  In  pursuance  of  orders  a  detachment  from  Greene's 
brigade  surrounded  the  house  an  hour  after  midnight  of  the  2ist  of  June,  and 
placed  the  mayor  under  arrest  ;  there  were,  however,  no  papers  of  impor 
tance  found  in  the  house.  Other  arrests  followed  as  rapidly  and  quietly, 
until  a  panic  seized  the  whole  tory  population  of  the  city.  Irving  thus 
sums  up  the  facts  discovered  in  the  examination  of  the  prisoners:  "Five 
guineas  bounty  was  offered  by  Governor  Tryon  to  each  man  who  should 
enter  the  King's  service,  with  a  promise  of  two  hundred  acres  of  land  for 
himself,  one  hundred  for  his  wife,  and  fifty  for  each  child.  The  men  thus 
recruited  were  to  act  on  shore,  in  co-operation  with  the  King's  troops  when 
they  came.  Corbie's  tavern,  near  Washington's  headquarters,  was  a  kind  of 
rendezvous  of  the  conspirators.  There  one  Gilbert  Forbes,  a  gunsmith,  a 
'short,  thick-set  man,  with  a  white  coat,'  enlisted  men,  gave  them  money, 
and  swore  them  on  the  book  to  secrecy.  From  this  house  a  correspondence 
vas  kept  up  with  Governor  Tryon,  on  shipboard,  through  a  '  mulatto-colored 
negro  dressed  in  blue  clothes.'  At  this  tavern,  it  was  supposed,  Washing 
ton's  body-guards  were  tampered  with.  Thomas  Hickey,  one  of  the  guards, 
a  dark  complexioned  man,  five  feet  six  inches  high,  and  well  set,  was  said 
not  only  to  have  enlisted  but  to  have  aided  in  corrupting  his  comrades, 
among  others,  Greene  the  drummer  and  Johnson  the  fifer."  Washington 
turned  the  civilians  over  to  the  authorities  of  the  colonies,  only  dealing  him- 


Q4  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

self  with  the  life-guard,  Hickey.  Him  he  directed  to  be  tried  by  court- 
martial,  and  this  trial  having  resulted  in  conviction,  the  culprit  was  executed 
in  the  presence  of  the  entire  army,  save  the  portion  actually  on  duty  at  the 
time.  The  fate  of  Hickey  and  the  peril  of  his  fellow  conspirators  so  effectu 
ally  paralyzed  the  remaining  tories,  that  for  the  time  they  were  silenced  and 
frightened  into  good  behavior. 

The  anxious  expectation  of  the  appearance  of  a  British  force  before 
New  York  was  soon  realized.  On  the  29th  of  June  came  news  from  the 
Staten  Island  lookout  that  forty  sail  were  in  sight.  This  was  the  fleet  and 
army  of  General  Sir  William  Howe,  recently  compelled  to  evacuate  Boston, 
strengthened  by  six  transports  of  Highland  troops,  encountered  at  sea.  The 
original  body  then  consisted  of  between  nine  thousand  and  ten  thousand 
men,  and  the  whole  fleet  stood  toward  the  harbor,  four  ships  of  war  being 
in  advance.  In  one  of  these,  the  Grayhound,  was  General  Howe,  who 
at  once  entered  into  a  conference  with  Governor  Tryon.  Washington 
redoubled  the  rigor  of  his  discipline,  sent  committees  to  adjacent  colonies 
calling  for  reserves,  notified  the  Clintons,  in  command  of  the  forts  upon  the 
Hudson,  to  beware  of  an  ascent  of  the  river,  and  then  awaited  develop 
ments.  These  were  not  slow  in  coming.  Upon  the  4th  of  July,  the  very 
day  of  the  adoption  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  the  first  troops  were 
landed  by  the  British,  Staten  Island  being  selected  for  the  debarkation.  On 
the  1 2th  of  the  same  month  a  hundred  spy-glasses  caught  the  gleam  from 
canvass  in  the  offing,  and  several  more  vessels  stood  in  and  cast  anchor  with 
the  already  large  fleet.  On  the  same  day  two  vessels  of  war,  the  Phoenix  of 
forty  and  the  Rose  of  twenty  guns,  weighed  anchor,  moved  toward  and  passed 
the  city,  without  serious  damage  from  the  batteries,  and  proceeded  up  the 
Hudson.  Washington  sent  expresses  warning  General  George  Clinton,  and 
urging  him  to  strengthen  the  garrisons  at  Forts  Constitution  and  Montgom 
ery,  and  to  collect  a  sufficient  force  to  protect  the  Highlands  against  the 
invaders.  Even  before  the  message  came,  the  people  were  up  in  arms,  cattle 
were  driven  back  from  the  river,  and  every  point  and  bluff  along  the  bank 
was  a  cover  for  sharp-shooters,  who  galled  the  vessels  and  picked  off  men 
from  every  boat's  crew  detached.  The  chief  aim  of  the  expedition  was  to 
make  soundings  in  the  channel  and  prepare  the  way  for  an  aggressive  move 
ment  ;  hence  the  ships  never  attacked  the  upper  forts,  nor  proceeded  far 
enough  to  come  within  range  of  them,  but  after  a  prolonged  stay  returned 
on  the  1 8th  of  August,  just  in  time  to  escape  through  a  gap  in  a  line  of 
ckevaux-de-frise,  stretched  by  Putnam  from  Fort  Washington  to  the  west 
bank  of  the  river,  which  gap  would  have  been  hopelessly  closed  in  a  day 
or  two.  In  the  meantime  vessels  of  war  and  transports  continued  to 
arrive  with  regiment  after  regiment  of  troops — Highlanders  and  Hessians. 
Early  in  August  Sir  Henry  Clinton's  squadron,  with  Lord  Cornwailts.  and 
three  thousand  troops,  dropped  down  upon  New  York,  fresh  from  the 


THE  OCCUPATION  OF  NEW  YORK.  95 

humiliating  defeat  at  Fort  Moultrie.  The  position  of  Washington  and  the 
army  of  New  York  was  indeed  a  most  critical  one.  The  enemy  had  a 
splendidly  organized,  disciplined  and  equipped  force  of  thirty  thousand  men; 
to  convey  these  from  point  to  point  he  had  a  sufficient  number  of  transports, 
and  to  cover  and  co-operate  with  his  land  force,  a  splendid  and  heavily 
armed  fleet.  Then,  too,  Washington  had  been  compelled  by  circumstances 
to  adopt  a  most  disadvantageous  point  for  defense  against  such  a  force, 
ork  Island,  with  the  bay  below  it,  the  Hudson  stretching  along  its  western 
side,  and  giving  a  water  way  to  the  interior;  the  Sound  to  the  eastward, 
giving  naval  access  upon  that  side ;  he  was  in  a  position  where  he  could  only 
watch  and  wait,  trusting  that  when  the  enemy  did  strike,  it  might  be  in  his 
power  to  parry  the  blow.  It  does  not  need  much  military  knowledge  to 
see  in  the  light  of  events  that,  with  the  choice  of  position  and  so  great  a 
land  and  naval  force  against  him,  a  successful  defense  of  such  an  exposed 
situation  was  impossible.  Against  the  force  of  the  British  Washington  had 
only  about  eleven  thousand  men  actually  effective.  These  were  largely 
militia  and  the  hasty  levies  furnished  by  Congress  for  service  until  December  I, 
1777.  Many,  perhaps  most  of  them,  had  never  been  under  fire  ;  nearly 
all  sadly  lacked  discipline,  and  none  of  them  could  compare  with  the 
commonest  British  regiment  in  point  of  equipment.  In  a  letter  written  to  Con 
gress  on  the  8th  of  August,  in  which  the  conditions  of  the  contest  are  stated, 
Washington  said:  "These  things  are  melancholy,  but  they  are,  never 
theless,  true.  I  hope  for  better.  Under  every  disadvantage,  my  utmost 
exertions  shall  be  employed  to  bring  about  the  great  end  we  have  in  view; 
and,  so  far  as  I  can  judge  from  the  professions  and  apparent  dispositions  of 
my  troops,  I  shall  have  their  support.  The  superiority  of  the  enemy  and 
their  expected  attack  do  not  seem  to  have  depressed  their  spirits.  These 
considerations  lead  me  to  think  that,  though  the  appeal  may  not  terminate 
so  happily  as  I  could  wish,  yet  the  enemy  will  not  succeed  in  their  views 
without  considerable  loss.  Any  advantage  they  may  gain  I  trust  will  cost 
them  dear."  It  will  be  seen  from  this  extract  that  Washington  had  little 
hope  for  the  event  ;  his  calmness  and  fortitude  are,  by  so  much,  the  more 
wonderful,  and  it  was  this  happy  self  equipoise  of  the  commander  that  saved 
the  colonial  army  from  annihilation. 

During  the  last  few  days  devoted  to  preparation  for  the  coming  battle, 
Washington  was  annoyed  by  the  utterly  unnecessary  and  gratuitous  quar 
rels  and  jealousies  of  his  own  officers.  Gates  had  been  appointed,  in  terms, 
to  the  command  in  Canada  ;  Schuyler  was  in  command  in  Northern  New 
York.  Gates  was  compelled  to  retire  to  the  southward  of  the  border  and 
still  claimed  authority  ;  Schuyler  held  that  Gates,  being  named  only  to  the 
command  in  Canada,  had  no  authority  in  New  York,  and  must  report  to 
him.  After  much  vexation  and  unseemly  discussion,  it  was  arranged  that 
the  two  generals  should  hold  command  of  the  army,  Schuyler  when  it  was 


9t>  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

in  New  York  ;  Gates  when  it  was  in  Canada.     To  such  ridiculous  expedk 
ents  was  Congress  driven. 

At  the  same  time,  sectional  and  class  jealousies  were  seriously  threat 
ening  the  efficiency  of  the  army  at  New  York.  The  troops  which  had 
served  at  Boston  and  elsewhere,  had  already  come  to  consider  themselves  as 
regulars,  and  to  regard  with  supercilious  contempt  the  militia  and  the  irreg 
ular  levies  which  the  emergency  had  called  into  action.  Then,  too,  the 
troops  of  the  South  looked  with  ill  concealed  derision  upon  the  New  Eng 
land  yeomanry,  who,  coming  directly  from  the  labor  of  their  farms,  dressed 
in  homespun,  and  equipped  in  most  various  style,  were  far  inferior  in  appear 
ance  to  their  own  forces.  Washington  was  more  than  annoyed — he  was 
alarmed  at  this  lack  of  unity  among  his  men.  In  personal  conversation 
with  the  general  officers  of  his  army,  he  continually  dwelt  upon  the  neces 
sity  of  harmony ;  in  his  orders  to  his  troops  he  held  up  the  common  cause 
for  which  they  were  fighting,  and  adjured  them  to  allow  no  petty  pique  or 
jealousy  to  come  between  them  and  the  efficiency  of  their  organization. 
The  fruitful  cause  of  all  this  discontent  and  lack  of  harmony,  was  the 
long  period  of  inaction  through  which  the  army  had  passed,  and  the  com 
mander,  regarding  the  coming  battle  as  inevitable,  and  having  completec1 
his  preparations,  had  no  desire  to  delay  the  issue. 


THE    BATTLE    AVD    EVACUATION'    OF    LONG    ISLAND. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

THE  BATTLE  AND  EVACUATION  OF  LONG  ISLAND. 

ABOUT  the  1st  of  August  Washington's  force  was  augmented  by  the 
arrival  of  Smallwood's  regiment,  two  Pennsylvania  regiments  and  a 
body  of  New  York  and  New  England  militia.  This  left  his  total  numerical 
strength  twenty-seven  thousand  men,  of  whom  one-fourth  were  sick.  The 
effective  force  was  widely  divided,  as  the  nature  of  the  ground  compelled.  A 
considerable  force  was  stationed  on  Long  Island,  under  General  Sullivan;  a 
large  part  of  the  remainder  was  distributed  among  the  various  stations 
upon  York  Island;  a  small  detachment  was  placed  on  Governor's  Island, 
and  another  at  Paulus  hook.  A  body  of  New  York  militia  under  General 
Clinton,  lay  on  the  sound  near  New  Rochelle,  and  about  East  and  West 
Chester,  prepared  to  oppose  any  movement  of  the  enemy  to  isolate  the 
American  army  by  landing  above  King's  bridge. 

Washington  estimated  very  highly  the  importance  of  the  coming  battle, 
in  its  bearing  upon  the  spirit  of  his  men  and  the  feeling  of  the  American 
people;  his  words  are  full  of  encouragement  to  his  soldiers  and  appeals  to 
their  patriotism  and  bravery.  Addressing  them  in  his  order  of  August  2d, 
he  says:  "The  time  is  now  near  at  hand  which,  must  determine  whether 
Americans  are  to  be  freemen  or  slaves ;  whether  they  are  to  have  any  prop 
erty  they  can  call  their  own ;  whether  their  houses  and  farms  are  to  be 
pillaged  and  destroyed,  and  themselves  consigned  to  a  state  of  wretched 
ness  from  which  no  human  efforts  can  deliver  them.  The  fate  of  unborn 
millions  will  now  depend,  under  God,  on  the  courage  and  conduct  of  this 
army.  Our  cruel  and  unrelenting  enemy  leaves  us  only  the  choice  of  a 
brave  resistance  or  a  most  abject  submission.  We  have,  therefore,  to 
resolve  to  conquer  or  die.  Our  own,  our  country's  honor,  call  upon  us  for 
a  vigorous  and  manly  exertion ;  and,  if  we  now  shamefully  fail,  we  shall 
become  infamous  to  the  whole  world.  Let  us,  then,  rely  on  the  goodness 
of  our  cause  and  the  aid  of  the  Supreme  Being,  in  whose  hands  victory  is, 


c\S  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

to  animate  and  encourage  us  to  great  and  noble  actions.  The  eyes  of  all 
our  countrymen  are  now  upon  us,  and  we  shall  have  their  blessings  and 
praises,  if  happily  we  are  the  instruments  of  saving  them  from  the  tyranny 
meditated  against  them.  Let  us  therefore  animate  and  encourage  each 
other,  and  show  the  whole  world  that  a  freeman,  contending  for  liberty  on 
his  own  ground,  is  superior  to  any  slavish  mercenary  on  earth."  This  was 
Washington's  appeal ;  for  those  who  did  their  duty  well  and  unflinchingly, 
he  promised  recognition  and  promotion,  at  the  same  time  giving  distinct 
orders  that  any  soldier  who  skulked,  attempted  to  conceal  himself,  or 
retreated  without  orders,  should  be  instantly  shot  down. 

One  of  the  first  steps  toward  the  defense  of  the  American  position  had 
been  the  stationing  of  a  brigade  of  troops  at  Brooklyn,  Long  Island.  The 
then  village  stood  upon  a  peninsula,  skirted  by  the  East  river,  the  bay,  and 
Gowanus  cove.  General  Greene  had  prepared  for  the  protection  of  this 
point,  by  planting  batteries  on  the  water  front,  on  Red  Hook,  and  on  Gov 
ernor's  Island,  and  others  upon  the  East  river,  presenting  really  formidable 
obstacles  to  a  naval  attack.  The  camp  faced  to  the  landward,  and  before  it, 
from  the  river  to  the  Gowanus  marsh,  extended  a  line  of  strong  and  well- 
armed  earthworks.  In  front  of  the  works  and  at  some  distance  was  a 
range  of  hills,  nearly  the  length  of  the  Island  and  crossed  by  three  different 
roads.  These  hills  presented  a  difficult,  but  by  no  means  impassable 
barrier,  save  by  one  of  the  three  roads.  Correctly  judging  that  the  enemy 
would  be  likely  to  make  his  first  movement  against  Long  Island,  Sullivan 
was  strongly  reinforced.  Early  on  the  morning  of  August  22d,  General 
Clinton  landed  the  main  body  of  the  British  troops  under  cover  of  the  fleet, 
his  line  extending,  according  to  his  own  statement,  from  the  ferry  at  the 
narrows,  through  Utrecht  and  Gravesend,  to  the  village  of  Flatland.  Put 
nam  was  assigned  to  the  command  of  Long  Island,  and  repaired  to  the 
camp  with  a  reinforcement  of  six  regiments,  greatly  rejoicing  at  the  pros 
pect  of  escape  from  garrison  duty,  and  the  hope  of  active  service.  Wash 
ington  directed  him  to  guard  the  heights  and  woods  between  his  own  and 
the  hostile  camp  with  his  best  troops. 

The  relative  positions  of  the  two  armies  is  thus  described  in  Marshall's 
Life  of  Washington  :  "The  Hessians,  under  General  De  Heister,  composed 
the  center  of  the  British  army  at  Flatbush;  Major-general  Grant  com 
manded  the  left  wing,  which  extended  to  the  coast,  and  the  greater  part  of 
the  British  forces,  under  General  Clinton,  Earl  Percy,  and  Lord  Cornwallis, 
turned  short  to  the  right  and  approached  the  opposite  coast  of  Flatland. 
The  two  armies  were  now  separated  by  the  range  of  hills  already  mentioned. 
The  British  center  at  Flatbush  was  scarcely  four  miles  distant  from  the 
American  lines  at  Brooklyn ;  and  a  direct  road  led  across  the  heights  from 
one  to  the  other.  Another  road,  rather  more  circuitous  than  the  first,  led 
from  Flatbush  by  way  of  Bedford,  a  small  village  on  the  Brooklyn  side  of 


THE    BATTLE    AND    EVACUATION    OF    LONG    ISLAND.  99 

the  hills.  The  right  and  left  wings  of  the  British  army  were  nearly  equi 
distant  from  the  American  works,  and  about  five  or  six  miles  from  them. 
The  road  leading  from  the  Narrows  along  the  coast,  and  by  way  of  Gowanus 
cove,  afforded  the  most  direct  route  to  their  left ;  and  their  right  might  either 
return  by  way  of  Flatbush,  unite  with  their  center,  or  take  a  more  circuitous 
course  and  enter  a  road  leading  from  Jamaica  to  Bedford.  These  several 
roads  unite  between  Bedford  and  Brooklyn,  a  short  distance  in  front  of  the 
American  lines." 

The  Americans  had  defended  the  direct  road  from  Brooklyn  to  Jamaica 
by  the  construction  of  a  fort.  The  remaining  roads  were  held  by  detach 
ments,  placed  at  the  summit  and  within  view  of  the  British  camp.  The 
main  road  was  also  patrolled  by  bodies  of  volunteers,  and  a  regiment  of 
Pennsylvania  riflemen  lay  in  the  vicinity  awaiting  service.  The  first  offensive 
movement  of  the  campaign  was  made  about  9  o'clock  on  the  night  of  the 
27th.  General  Clinton  had  been  told,  by  some  of  his  tory  friends,  of  the 
existence  of  a  pass  in  the  hills  about  three  miles  east  of  Bedford,  and,  at  the 
time  named,  silently  moved  the  van  of  the  British  army  to  effect  its  capture. 
Almost  simultaneously  General  Grant  advanced  the  British  left,  supported 
by  artillery,  along  the  coast  road.  His  chief  object  was  to  make  a  diversion, 
hence  his  movement  was  open,  and  skirmishing  was  constant.  Putnam  rein 
forced  the  troops  in  Grant's  front,  and,  this  reinforcement  not  proving  suffi 
cient,  a  second  detachment  of  two  regiments  under  Brigadier-general  Lord 
Stirling  was  ordered  to  advance  to  their  support.  The  defense  of  the  two 
other  roads  was  also  strengthened.  So  successful  was  the  ruse  of  Grant, 
that  Clinton,  two  hours  before  daybreak,  surprised  and  captured  one  of  the 
American  parties  stationed  on  the  road,  learned  from  them  that  he  need  fear 
no  opposition  in  securing  the  pass,  and  at  daybreak  marched  his  entire 
column  through  the  unguarded  way  and  descended  upon  the  level  plain 
before  the  American  works. 

Stirling  and  Grant  met  at  the  summit  of  the  hill,  and  an  active  can 
nonade  was  opened,  but  as  the  American  orders  were  simply  to  hold  the 
road,  and,  as  Grant  only  desired  to  cover  Clinton's  movement,  he  made  no 
effort  to  force  the  position  of  Stirling.  In  the  center  General  De  Heister 
opened  a  brisk  cannonading  of  the  redoubt  upon  the  direct  road  and  the 
troops  under  the  immediate  command  of  General  Sullivan,  but,  he  also, 
desiring  to  await  the  success  of  Clinton's  venture,  did  not  leave  his  position 
at  Flatbush  for  some  time  after  the  collision  occurred.  At  the  same 
time  all  the  British  fleet  had  made  repeated  efforts  to  come  up  from  the 
bay  to  co-operate  with  the  land  forces,  but  had  been  baffled  by  adverse 
wind,  one  vessel  only,  and  that  of  inferior  armament,  reaching  a  point 
which  permitted  its  cannonading  the  battery  at  Red  Hook.  While  these 
three  separate  cannonades  were  in  progress,  Clinton  was  marching  unmo 
lested  to  the  rear  of  Sullivan's  left,  at  last  reaching  Bedford.  General  De 


IOO  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

Heister,  apprised  of  the  successful  passage  of  the  hills  and  correctly  judg 
ing  of  Clinton's  position,  then  ordered  the  advance  of  a  corps  to  the  attack 
of  the  position  held  by  Sullivan,  himself  following  with  the  main  force  of  the 
center.  This  was  about  half-past  eight  in  the  morning.  Almost  simultane 
ously  the  Americans  discovered  the  presence  of  Clinton  in  their  rear,  and  at 
once  began  retreat,  in  the  hope  of  regaining  the  works  at  Brooklyn.  As 
the  regiments  emerged  from  the  woods  they  met  the  British  right.  A  skir 
mish  ensued,  the  Americans  were  driven  back.  Clinton  then  pushed  on, 
and,  reaching  the  main  road,  intercepted  the  retreat  of  the  force  under  the 
immediate  command  of  Sullivan,  which,  hearing  the  firing  at  Bedford,  had 
been  ordered  to  fall  back,  after  meeting  the  first  charge  of  De  Heister  and 
his  Hessians.  De  Heister  being  unopposed  was  enabled  to  detach  a  portion 
of  his  troops  to  the  assistance  of  the  British  at  Bedford,  and  the  Ameri 
cans  of  both  bodies  were  then  in  practically  the  same  situation.  Both 
were  driven  back  by  Clinton's  advance,  only  to  meet  the  Hessian  force. 
The  second  encounter  compelled  a  recoil  upon  Clinton's  front,  and  thus, 
hemmed  in  between  two  forces,  fighting  desperately  yet  hopelessly,  first  with 
one  then  with  the  other,  the  left  wing  and  the  immediate  force  of  General  Sulli 
van  was  cut  to  pieces.  A  few  succeeded  in  regaining  the  lines  at  Brooklyn, 
some  individuals  escaped  through  the  woods,  but  nearly  all  were  killed  or 
captured.  A  mingled  force  of  British  and  Hessians  pursued  the  fugitives 
to  the  very  works  before  Brooklyn,  and  only  the  peremptory  commands  of 
their  officers  restrained  them  from  an  immediate  assault. 

Lord  Stirling  was  still  holding  Grant,  when  the  firing  at  Bedford 
apprised  him  of  the  necessity  of  at  once  securing  his  retreat  to  the  works. 
In  order  to  accomplish  this,  it  became  necessary  to  attack  a  corps  of  British 
under  command  of  Lord  Cornwallis,  which  was  so  stationed  as  to  interfere 
with  his  re-crossing  the  creek.  For  this  purpose  four  hundred  of  Small- 
wood's  regiment  were  detached  and  made  a  desperately  brave  and  well  nigh 
successful  effort  to  dislodge  the  enemy,  but  were  thwarted  by  the  arrival  of 
British  reinforcements.  Under  cover  of  this  attack,  a  large  part  of  Stirling's 
command  made  good  its  retreat;  the  survivors  of  Smallwood's  regiment  and 
Stirling  himself  were  taken  prisoners. 

The  number  of  Americans  engaged  upon  the  heights  was  not  far  from 
five  thousand ;  the  British  force  being  much  greater.  No  accurate  account 
of  the  loss  on  the  colonial  side  has  ever  been  obtained.  Fully  one  thou 
sand  regulars  were  killed,  wounded,  or  captured,  besides  a  probably  equal 
number  of  militia.  Three  general  officers— Generals  Stirling,  Sullivan, 
and  Woodhull  were  among  the  prisoners.  General  Howe  places  the  total 
American  loss  at  three  thousand  three  hundred — doubtless  excessive — and 
that  of  the  British  at  twenty-one  officers  and  three  hundred  and  forty-six 
privates,  killed,  wounded,  and  captured. 

During  the   entire  engagement,  the  city  of  New  York  was  in  an  agony 


THE    BATTLE   AND    EVACUATION    OF    LONG    ISLAND.  IOI 

of  fear.  The  firing  at  early  morning  had  told  that  the  long  anticipated  bat 
tle  was  begun,  but  what  its  fortunes  or  what  its  ultimate  object,  no  man 
knew.  Washington  was  himself  in  the  city.  He  did  not  appreciate  the 
full  strength  of  the  British  upon  Long  Island,  as  a  large  proportion  of  the 
force  had  made  a  secret  night  landing.  He  was  in  doubt  whether  the  attack 
upon  the  American  position  upon  Long  Island  was  not,  in  fact,  only  pre 
liminary  to  a  movement  against  the  city.  This  fear  found  some  reason,  in 
the  attempt  of  British  war  vessels  to  beat  up  to  the  neighborhood  of  Red 
Hook,  to  which  reference  has  been  made.  Hence,  the  commander  in  chief 
remained  in  New  York,  until  the  heavy  firing  of  artillery  and  small  arms, 
from  the  three  separate  battles  beyond  Brooklyn,  told  him  that  the  affair 
was  most  serious;  then  he  embarked  in  his  barge,  crossed  over,  and,  from  a 
commanding  point  within  the  lines  was  enabled,  by  the  aid  of  his  glass,  to 
watch  the  movements  of  both  parties,  over  the  entire  [field.  He  at  once 
saw  the  certain  fate  of  the  left — in  fact,  the  catastrophe  was  even  then  almost 
complete — and  his  anxiety  for  Lord  Stirling,  on  the  right,  was  most  intense. 
Stirling's  circuitous  retreat  was  soon  commenced,  and  Washington  could 
see,  as  Stirling  could  not,  the  movement  of  Cornwallis  to  the  rear  of  the 
latter,  and  felt  assured  that  the  whole  of  that  wing  must  fall  without  striking 
a  blow.  The  heroic  attempt  of  Smalhvood  and  his  handful  of  Marylanders 
to  dislodge  Cornwallis,  filled  him  at  once  with  admiration  and  sorrow,  and 
he  exclaimed,  wringing  his  hands:  "Good  God!  what  brave  fellows  I  must 
this  day  lose."  As  the  flying  fragments  of  what  had  been  his  best  troops 
came  panting  to  the  works,  closely  pursued  by  their  victorious  enemies, 
Washington  found  enough  to  do  to  prepare  for  holding  his  defenses,  occu 
pied  almost  exclusively  by  militia,  against  threatened  assault.  It  is  prob 
able,  indeed,  that  such  an  assault  would  have  been  made,  but  for  a  timely 
discharge  of  musketry  and  grape  from  the  works.  The  pursuit,  however, 
ended  there ;  the  day's  work  was  done,  and  nightfall  found  the  British 
encamped  about  a  mile  before  the  American  lines,  with  their  sentries  but 
one-fourth  of  that  distance  away. 

Had  the  blow  struck  the  continental  army  that  day,  been  but  a  little 
stronger,  and  had  the  consummate  leadership  which  withdrew  the  shattered 
force  safely  from  the  jaws  of  destruction,  been  lacking,  the  cause  of  liberty  in 
America  would  have  been  almost  beyond  hope,  and  the  reputation  of  Wash 
ington,  as  a  commander,  must  have  gone  with  it.  Even  as  it  proved,  Washing 
ton  has  been  more  criticized  by  reason  of  this  disaster,  than  for  any  other 
incident  of  a  long  and  bloody  war.  The  first  basis  of  this  criticism  is  his  occu 
pation  of  New  York.  Many  eminent  military  authorities  have  declared  the 
position  untenable  by  a  purely  land  force,  acting  against  a  co-operating  army 
and  navy.  There  are,  however,  two  sides  to  this  question.  The  strategic 
importance  of  the  Hudson  and  the  northern  lakes,  has  already  been  dis 
cussed  in  these  pages.  Washington  felt  that  the  possession  of  the  Hudson 


IO2  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

was  of  such  vital  importance  as  to  warrant  a  great  risk.  In  holding  New 
York,  rather  than  in  concentrating  at  a  higher  point  upon  the  river,  he  had 
a  double  purpose — first  to  insure  the  dependence  of  the  British  army  upon 
the  fleet  for  supplies — and  to  prevent,  if  possible,  their  gaining  a  foothold 
and  a  land  base  for  operations  to  the  northward ;  and  second,  to  prevent  the 
thousands  of  tories  of  New  York  and  adjacent  colonies,  from  having  a 
secure  rendezvous  for  movements  against  him.  This  consideration  was  by 
no  means  a  light  one.  The  force  of  the  British  was  certain,  in  any  event, 
to  be  fully  as  great  as  Washington  could  cope  with.  Give  it  an  assured  and 
permanent  foothold,  and  not  only  would  its  ranks  be  largely  reinforced  by 
organized  loyalists,  but  all  the  country  about  would  be  stripped  for  subsist 
ence,  and  harried  by  guerrilla  warfare,  while  his  own  poorly  equipped  force 
might  be  reduced  by  isolation  and  want  Then,  too,  the  impossibility  of 
defending  New  York  is  much  more  obvious  in  the  light  of  experience  than 
as  a  matter  of  theory.  The  possession  of  heavier  cannon  ;  the  organization 
of  such  an  army  as  he  had  reason  to  expect  when  his  policy  was  adopted ; 
the  exercise  of  greater  vigilance  on  the  part  of  his  subordinate  officers,  might 
have  made  a  very  radical  change  in  the  result  of  the  campaign.  The 
catastrophe  on  Long  Island  cannot  be  justly  charged  to  Washington.  Had 
his  orders  been  carried  out,  the  result  would  probably  have  been  far 
different.  He  expressly  charged  Putnam  to  use  his  best  force  for  the 
defense  of  the  woods.  Though  the  best  force  of  the  army  had  unquestion 
ably  been  dispatched  to  the  heights,  it  had  not  been  so  disposed  as  to  give 
any  secure  defense.  The  Bedford  pass  had  been  left  exposed,  and,  by  reason 
of  such  neglect,  came  the  whole  disaster  of  the  day.  The  defeat  ought  not, 
either,  to  rest  as  a  cloud  upon  the  reputation  of  the  gallant  Putnam.  The 
defense  of  Long  Island  had  been  first  committed  to  General  Greene. 
Greene  had  fully  mastered  the  situation  and  laid  his  own  plans,  when  he  was 
taken  sick,  and  Sullivan  was  placed  in  command.  At  that  time  there  was 
no  more  reason  for  supposing  that  Brooklyn  would  be  the  object  of  the 
enemy's  attack,  than  for  expecting  him  to  assail  any  one  of  numerous  other 
points.  At  last,  almost  immediately  before  the  battle,  Putnam  was  sent 
over  from  New  York,  and  assumed  command.  He  had  not  time  or  oppor 
tunity  to  master  the  minute  peculiarities  of  the  ground  ;  he  had  no  cavalry 
to  use  as  videttes — and  hence  came  the  catastrophe,  which  was  rather  a 
misfortune,  arising  from  circumstances,  than  the  fault  of  any  individual. 

The  night  after  the  battle  was  a  sleepless  one  in  the  American  camp. 
Washington  made  the  rounds  of  the  works,  encouraging  the  weary  and  dis 
pirited  troops,  and  vigilantly  watching  for  any  movement  on  the  part  of  the 
enemy.  The  morning  showed  the  whole  British  force  encamped  upon  the 
level  between  the  heights  and  the  American  lines.  General  Mercer  arrived 
during  the  day  with  reinforcements  from  the  flying  camp  at  Amboy,  from 
King's  bridge,  and  Fort  Washington,  and  a  regiment,  formed  in  the  Massa- 


THE    BATTLE    AND    EVACUATION    OF    LONG    ISLAND.  1 03 

chusetts  fishing  villages  of  the  amphibious  men  peculiar  to  that  coast. 
There  were  not  more  than  one  thousand  three  hundred  men  in  all,  but  they 
were  very  welcome  and  gave  new  confidence  to  every  one.  The  British 
must  have  greatly  overestimated  Washington's  force  and  the  strength  of  his 
defenses,  for  they  made  no  motion  to  attack  him.  There  was  some  light 
skirmishing  during  the  day,  but,  for  the  most  part,  the  enemy  kept  his 
tents,  only  emerging  near  nightfall,  to  begin  intrenching  close  to  the  Amer 
ican  lines,  as  if  determined  to  force  them  by  regular  approaches.  The  fol 
lowing  day  was  densely  foggy.  Washington  had  well  nigh  determined  that 
his  position  was  untenable,  when  Adjutant-general  Reed  and  another  officer, 
who  had  ridden  to  the  neighborhood  of  Red  hook,  dashed  up  to  head 
quarters  with  the  report  that,  the  wind  having  for  a  moment  raised  the  fog, 
they  had  seen  signs  of  the  greatest  activity  about  the  British  fleet.  Boats 
were  hurrying  back  and  forth  with  orders,  and  everything  indicated  a  speedy 
naval  movement.  No  one  could  doubt  the  destination  of  the  fleet — it  was 
the  East  river,  and,  once  there,  the  patriot  army,  with  enemies  in  front  and 
in  the  rear,  would  be  helpless.  Washington's  resolve  was  taken  at  once. 
He  must  retire  to  New  York  that  night,  and  secretly.  He  sent  out  parties 
to  impress  every  craft  capable  of  carrying  a  man,  from  Tarry  town  to  Hell 
gate.  This  order  was  carried  out  with  the  energy  and  success  which  offset 
so  many  of  the  disadvantages  of  the  American  army,  and  by  8  o'clock  in  the 
evening  there  was  assembled  at  Brooklyn  as  motley  a  fleet  as  ever  gathered 
for  service. 

To  prepare  for  this  important  movement,  without  endangering  its 
secrecy,  orders  were  given  to  all  the  men  to  be  prepared  for  a  night  attack. 
Weary,  defeated,  many  of  them  sick  and  suffering,  their  arms  wet  and  often 
useless,  they  heard  the  orders  with  surprise,  yet  unhesitatingly  prepared  to 
obey.  General  Mifflin  was  ordered  to  keep  his  men  at  the  works  until  the 
last — posting  his  sentries  and  maintaining  the  routine,  that  the  British  might 
suspect  nothing,  for  discovery  meant  the  destruction  of  the  army  and  the 
hopes  of  the  colonies.  The  movement  began.  Washington  himself  stood 
at  the  ferry  and  hastened  the  embarkation.  Everything  was  done  so  silently 
that  the  mattocks  and  spades  of  the  British,  working  upon  their  defenses, 
could  be  plainly  heard.  Suddenly  there  rang  out,  doubly  loud  and  frightful 
in  the  stillness  of  the  night,  the  roar  of  a  cannon.  Whence  did  it  come — 
From  British  or  American  works?  What  did  it  mean — discovery?  Men 
grasped  their  pieces  for  defense,  while  their  hearts  stood  still  with  drc:\:.. 
But  there  came  no  answering  roar,  no  bugle  or  drum  called  the  sleepers  to 
arms  ;  the  British  workers  still  plied  their  tools  ;  the  hostile  soldiers  turned 
in  their  blankets  for  another  nap.  No  one  ever  learned  whence  came  the  re 
port.  Perhaps  there  was  a  traitor  in  the  camp,  who  sought  thus  to  convey 
a  warning  to  the  British  lines  ;  perhaps  a  careless  hand,  in  spiking  a  great 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

gun,  had  discharged  it.     Accident  or  design,  it  did  no  harm,  and  the  few 
lines  of  retreating  soldiers  had  yet  a  chance. 

Still  another  peril  menaced  the  movement ;  Washington,  impatient  of 
what  seemed  to  him  needless  delay,  sent  an  aide-de-camp  to  hasten  the  next 
detachment.  The  messenger  stupidly  included  Mifflin's  command  in  his 
orders  ;  sentries  were  withdrawn,  the  works  deserted,  and,  long  ere  the 
proper  time  had  come,  Mifflin  and  his  men  were  at  the  place  of  embarka 
tion. 

' '  Good  God !  General  Mifflin,  I  am  afraid  you  have  ruined  us  by  so 
unseasonably  withdrawing  the  troops  from  the  lines,"  exclaimed  Washing 
ton. 

"  I  did  so  by  your  order,"  answered  Mifflin. 

"  It  cannot  l>e,"  cried  Washington. 

"By  God,  I  did.  Did  Scammel  act  as  aide-de-camp  for  the  day,  or 
did  he  not  ?  " 

"He  did." 

"Then  I  had  orders  through  him." 

"It  is  a  dreadful  mistake,"  rejoined  Washington,  "and,  unless  the 
troops  can  again  regain  the  lines  before  their  absence  is  discovered  by  the 
enemy,  the  most  disastrous  consequences  are  to  be  apprehended." 

Mifflin  led  his  men  back  to  their  posts,  and  there  they  remained  until 
came  their  turn  to  cross  the  river.  This  going  back  to  a  post  of  supreme 
danger,  having  once  relinquished  it  with  the  hope  of  safety  before  them, 
marks  the  act  as  one  of  the  most  heroic  of  the  war.  At  last,  just  as  morning- 
was  breaking,  these  gallant  men  as  well  embarked,  and  the  astounded  British, 
awaking  to  find  the  works  deserted,  reached  the  bank  of  the  great  river  just 
in  time  to  see  the  last  boats  pass  beyond  range  of  their  guns,  and  to  capture, 
as  their  sole  prize,  two  wretches  who  had  lingered  for  the  sake  of  plunder. 
Thus  not  only  the  American  army,  its  sick  and  wounded,  escaped  from  cer 
tain  death  or  capture  to  a  place  of  temporary  safety,  but  with  them  they 
bore  their  arms,  supplies,  wagons,  horses,  and  all  but  their  heaviest  guns. 
This  was  done  in  the  face  of  an  enemy  not  five  hundred  yards  distant,  across 
a  broad  arm  of  the  sea,  with  no  better  means  of  carriage  than  small  sailing 
craft,  smacks,  and  rowing  boats.  The  exploit  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
in  military  history,  and  at  once  fixed  Washington's  reputation  as  a  general, 
both  at  home  and  abroad.  WTith  all  his  skill  and  address,  and  the  splendid 
co-operation  of  his  troops,  the  retreat  could  never  have  been  accomplished 
but  for  the  fog;,  the  darkness,  and  the  glassy  stillness  of  the  water.  The 
night  was  not  a  moment  too  long,  and  had  not  the  Providential  favor  of 
nature  been  extended,  some,  if  not  all,  of  the  devoted  little  army  must  have 
been  cut  off  and  lost. 

The  perplexities  of  the  commander  were  still  far  from  past.  The  retreat 
to  New  York  was  but  a  forlorn  device,  and  the  straits  of  the  army  still 


THE   BATTLE   AND   EVACUATION   OF   LONG   ISLAND.  1 05 

seemed  desperate  enough.  Washington  in  writing  to  Congress,  under  date 
of  September  2d,  said:  "  Our  situation  is  truly  distressing.  The  check  our 
detachment  sustained  on  the  2/th  ultimo,  has  dispirited  too  great  a  propor 
tion  of  our  troops,  and  filled  their  minds  with  apprehension  and  despair. 
The  militia,  instead  of  calling  forth  their  utmost  efforts  to  a  brave  and  manly 
opposition,  in  order  to  repair  our  losses,  are  dismayed,  intractable,  and 
impatient  to  return.  Great  numbers  of  them  have  gone  off;  in  some  instances 
almost  by  whole  regiments;  in  many,  half  ones,  and  by  companies  at  a  time. 
This  circumstance  of  itself,  independent  of  others,  when  fronted  by  a  well- 
appointed  enemy,  superior  in  number  to  our  whole  collected  force,  would  be 
sufficiently  disagreeable ;  but,  when  it  is  added  that  their  example  has  affected 
another  part  of  the  army;  that  their  want  of  discipline  and  refusal  of  almost 
every  kind  of  restraint  and  government,  have  rendered  a  like  conduct  but 
too  common  in  the  whole ;  and  have  produced  an  entire  disregard  of  that 
order  and  subordination  necessary  for  the  well-doing  of  an  army,  which 
had  been  before  inculcated  as  well  as  the  nature  of  our  military  establish 
ment  would  admit  of,  our  condition  is  still  more  alarming  and,  with  the 
deepest  concern,  I  am  obliged  to  confess  my  want  of  confidence  in  the  gen 
erality  of  the  troops. "  This  letter  gives  the  best  possible  picture  of  the 
internal  difficulties  which  complicated  the  position,  at  the  most  critical  time 
in  the  prosecution  of  the  war. 

The  first  step  taken  by  Lord  Howe  after  the  battle  of  Long  Island, 
was  to  follow  up  his  advantage  with  overtures  for  a  peace  conference — with 
which  duty  he  had  been  charged  by  the  home  government.  To  this  end 
he  released  General  Sullivan  upon  parole  and  sent  him  with  a  message  to 
Congress.  This  communication  stated  his  authority  to  treat  for  an  adjust 
ment  of  differences,  but  said  that  he  could  not  confer  with  Congress  as 
a  recognized  body.  He  asked,  however,  that  a  committee  from  its 
membership  be  appointed,  and  said  that  he  would  meet  them  as  prom 
inent  citizens  of  the  colonies,  and  that  if  an  arrangement  of  the  trouble 
should  result,  the  ratification  of  Congress  should  be  accepted  as  sufficient. 
Congress  was  placed  in  an  embarrassing  position  by  this  proposal.  It  could 
not  be  literally  accepted  without  derogating  from  the  dignity  of  the  body 
nor  could  it  be  unconditionally  rejected,  without  great  danger  of  offending 
some  very  good  Whigs  who  still  believed  reconciliation  to  be  both  possible 
and  desirable.  After  due  consideration,  Congress  sent  an  answer  to  Lord 
Howe,  to  the  effect  that  it  could  not  consistently  send  its  committee  as  indi 
viduals,  but  would  accredit  to  him  a  committee  of  Congress,  to  ascertain 
what  were  his  powers  in  the  premises.  John  Adams,  Edward  Rutledge, 
and  Benjamin  Franklin  were  appointed  such  committee,  and  met  Lord 
Howe  at  his  house  on  Staten  island,  opposite  Amboy.  The  conference 
was  most  courteously  conducted  on  both  sides  and  was  not  long,  as  it 
was  soon  discovered  that  Lord  Howe  did  not  possess  extraordinary  pow- 


IO6  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

ers,  and  could  only  propose  terms  which  involved  the  submission  of  the 
colonies,  without  any  better  pledge  of  the  redress  of  grievances  than  the 
most  general  professions  afforded.  Hence  the  lord  admiral  and  the  very 
republican  committee  parted  as  they  had  met,  very  courteously,  but  with 
nothing  gained,  save  the  knowledge  that  an  honorable  peace  could  not  be 
attained  by  negotiation. 

After  the  battle  of  the  27th  the  British  force,  with  the  exception  of 
about  four  thousand  men  left  on  Staten  island,  was  removed  to  Long  island 
and  held  the  entire  shore  from  Hell  Gate  to  Bedford,  exposing  the  opposite 
shore  of  York  Island  for  a  distance  of  nine  miles,  to  the  possibility  of 
attack  at  any  point,  only  the  East  river,  in  most  places  not  more  than  a 
mile  in  width,  separating  the  hostile  armies.  Yet  there  seemed  no  disposi 
tion  to  attack.  Several  vessels  of  the  fleet  moved  around  Long  island  and 
anchored  in  the  sound,  while  others  lay  sheltered  from  the  American  bat- 
eries  by  Governor's  island,  ready  to  ascend  either  the  North  or  East  river., 
Washington  at  this  time  unquestionably  favored  an  immediate  evacuation  of 
the  city.  He  called  a  council  of  war,  which  decided  against  such  a  move 
ment,  on  the  ground  that  if  the  evacuation  could  be  delayed  until  later  in 
the  season  the  British  would  be  prevented  from  taking  the  field  before 
spring,  by  which  time  the  American  army  could  be  much  strengthened  and 
posted  to  advantage.  Another  quotation  from  one  of  Washington's  letters 
to  Congress  will  better  give  his  view  of  the  situation  than  it  can  be  other 
wise  conveyed.  "It  is  now,"  he  said,  "extremely  obvious  from  their 
movements,  from  our  intelligence,  and  from  every  other  circumstance,  that, 
having  their  whole  army  on  Long  island,  except  about  four  thousand  men 
who  remain  on  Staten  island,  they  mean  to  enclose  us  in  this  island,  by 
taking  posts  in  our  rear,  while  their  ships  effectually  secure  the  front,  and 
thus,  by  cutting  off  our  communication  with  the  country,  oblige  us  to  fight 
them  on  their  own  terms,  or  surrender  at  discretion;  or,  if  it  shall  be 
deemed  more  advisable,  by  a  brilliant  stroke  endeavor  to  cut  this  army  to 
pieces,  and  secure  the  possession  of  arms  and  stores  which  they  well  know 
our  inability  to  replace.  Having  their  system  unfolded  to  us,  it  becomes  an 
important  consideration  how  it  could  be  most  successfully  opposed.  On 
every  side  there  is  a  choice  of  difficulties,  and  experience  teaches  us  that 
every  measure  on  our  part  (however  painful  the  reflection),  must  be 
taken  with  some  apprehension  that  all  our  troops  will  not  do  their  duty. 
In  deliberating  upon  this  great  question,  it  is  impossible  to  forget  that  his 
tory,  our  own  experience,  the  advice  of  our  ablest  friends  in  Europe,  the 
fears  of  the  enemy  and  even  the  declarations  of  Congress,  demonstrate  that, 
on  our  side,  the  war  should  be  defensive; — (it  has  ever  been  called  a  war  of 
posts ;) — that  we  should,  on  all  occasions,  avoid  a  general  action,  nor  put 
anything  to  the  risk,  unless  compelled  by  necessity,  into  which  we  ought 
never  to  be  drawn." 


HKNJAMIN    FRANK  I. IX. 


THE    BATTLE    AND    EVACUATION    OF    LONG    ISLAND.  IO/ 

The  army  was  formed  into  three  divisions ;  one  was  stationed  at  New 
York,  another  at  King's  bridge,  and  the  third  lay  between  the  city  and  the 
Bridge,  guarding  Harlem  heights  and  prepared  to  give  support  on  either 
hand.  Washington  evidently  regarded  this  as  only  a  makeshift,  and  at  once 
began  the  removal  of  his  sick  to  Orange,  New  Jersey,  and  of  such  stores  as 
were  not  immediately  needed,  to  Dobb's  Ferry.  By  the  loth  of  September, 
the  movements  of  the  British  had  become  such  as  to  leave  no-  doubt  of  their 
intention  to  inclose  the  Americans  upon  the  island;  on  the  1 2th  a  second 
council  of  war  was  almost  unanimous  in  the  belief  that  an  immediate  retire 
ment  from  the  city  was  absolutely  necessary  to  the  safety  of  the  army. 
Hence  General  Mercer  moved  his  flying  camp,  from  Amboy  to  a  point  nearly 
opposite  Fort  Washington,  to  guard  and  facilitate  the  transfer  of  stores, 
which  was  brought  to  an  end  on  the  I5th  by  the  movement  of  three  British 
ships-of-war  as  far  up  the  North  river  as  Bloomingdale.  These  vessels  passed 
the  American  batteries  almost  uninjured.  In  fact  there  was  scarcely  an  in 
stance  in  which  the  American  guns  at  New  York  did  material  damage  to  a 
British  vessel.  On  the  same  day,  at  about  1 1  o'clock,  Sir  Henry  Clinton 
moved  across  from  Long  island  toward  Turtle  bay  on  York  Island,  with  two 
divisions  of  troops.  His  crossing  was  covered  by  a  most  tremendous  can 
nonade,  directed  by  war  vessels  in  the  sound  at  the  works  on  Turtle  Bay. 
These  works  were  guarded  by  militia  who  had  been  engaged  upon  Long 
Island,  and  who  had  a  most  wholesome  dread  of  scarlet  cloth.  The  landing 
of  the  British  was  made  at  a  point  between  Turtle  and  Kip's  Bays.  At 
the  first  sight  of  the  enemy  the  militia  broke  and  fled,  communicating  their 
panic  to  two  brigades  of  Putnam's  Connecticut  troops,  which  had  been  sent 
to  support  them.  In  the  midst  of  this  headlong  flight  Washington  rode  up; 
dashing  in  among  the  flying  men  he  endeavored  to  check  them,  and  had,  to 
a  degree,  succeeded,  when  a  glimpse  of  the  approaching  British  again  terrified 
them,  and  they  renewed  their  flight.  Washington  for  once  lost  his  equanim 
ity.  He  dashed  his  hat  upon  the  ground,  exclaiming:  "Are  these  the 
men  with  whom  I  am  to  defend  America!"  then,  drawing  his  sword,  he 
threatened  some  of  the  flying  militia  with  its  edge,  snapped  his  pistols  at 
others,  and  was  so  carried  away  by  his  feelings  that,  had  not  a  soldier  seized 
his  bridle-rein  and  led  his  horse  away,  he  would  probably  have  been  cap 
tured  by  the  enemy,  whose  advance  was  but  eighty  yards  distant.  Wash 
ington  at  once  sent  word  to  Putnam  to  remove  the  troops  under  his  com 
mand  from  the  island,  and  the  weary  march  of  the  incumbered  line,  under 
the  blazing  sun  and  along  a  dusty  road,  fairly  blistering  in  its  heat,  was 
taken  up.  Washington  manned  the  lines  as  best  he  could,  to  cover  this 
retreat,  but  for  some  reason  Clinton  failed  to  follow  up  his  advantage,  when 
he  could  scarcely  have  failed  to  cripple  or  destroy  the  American  army.  The. 
march  was  only  interrupted  by  a  slight  skirmish  near  Bloomingdale,  and  the, 
entire  loss  of  the  day  upon  the  American  side  was  fifteen  killed  and  one  hun- 


IO8  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

dred  and  fifty-nine  taken  prisoners.  A  very  serious  calamity,  however,  was 
the  capture  of  the  heavy  artillery,  stores,  and  munitions  necessarily  aban 
doned  in  the  retreat. 

The  main  body  of  the  Americans  was  stationed  in  a  strong  position  at 
King's  bridge ;  Morris  heights  and  McGowan's  pass  were  held  in  force,  and 
a  strong  detachment  occupied  an  entrenched  camp  on  Harlem  heights. 
Howe  established  his  main  position  not  more  than  a  mile  and  a  half  from 
the  American  lines,  his  front  extending  from  Horen's  hook,  on  the  East 
river,  to  a  point  near  Bloomingdale,  on  the  Hudson. 

The  armies  lay  thus  vis-a-vis  until  the  I2th  day  of  October.  On  the 
1 6th  day  of  September  occurred  a  sharp  collision  between  a  body  of  British 
skirmishers  and  Connecticut  and  Virginia  troops,  under  Colonels  Knowlton 
and  Leitch.  In  this  fight  the  Americans  dislodged  and  drove  back  the 
British  force,  with  a  loss  to  the  enemy  of  not  less  than  one  hundred  men, 
the  colonial  troops  losing  not  half  that  number,  though  both  their  colonels 
were  killed,  and  the  men  were  led  to  final  success  by  captains.  This  affair 
was  not  of  great  intrinsic  importance,  but,  as  the  first  success  of  the  cam 
paign,  and  one  of  the  first  won  in  open  field  during  the  war,  its  influence  was 
most  valuable.  Washington  regarded  the  time  thus  spent  in  the  face  of  an 
enemy,  with  a  strongly  fortified  camp  to  give  confidence  to  his  men,  as  of 
the  greatest  use  in  accustoming  them  to  field  service  and  ridding  them  of 
that  fear  of  British  soldiers,  as  such,  which  had  already  proved  so  disastrous, 
and  the  occasional  skirmishes  which  broke  the  monotony  of  the  month 
showed,  by  the  steady  increase  of  their  efficiency,  that  only  a  permanent 
organization  of  the  army  and  a  little  practical  experience  were  necessary  to 
secure  the  best  results. 

At  this  time  there  arose  again  the  almost  hopeless  problem  of  army 
reorganization.  The  militia  had  largely  dispersed  without  the  formality  of 
a  discharge,  and  gone  to  their  homes.  Such  as  had  remained  would  be 
released  by  the  limitation  of  their  service  on  the  1st  of  December  follow 
ing  ;  the  regular  soldiers  were  most  of  them  enlisted  for  terms  expiring  on 
the  1st  of  January,  1777,  and  the  short-sighted  policy  of  Congress  in  offering 
a  pitiful  bounty  of  but  ten  dollars  for  three  years'  service,  had  failed  in  allur 
ing  any  great  number  of  men.  Washington  was  attempting  to  stay  the 
waters  of  the  Nile  with  a  dam  of  bulrushes  ;  the  force  against  him  was,  at 
the  best,  the  superior  of  his  own  ;  should  the  experience  of  the  former  year 
be  repeated,  he  saw  before  him  only  the  prospect  of  defeat  and  destruction. 
There  followed  a  long  correspondence  between  Washington  and  the  presi 
dent  of  Congress,  which  it  would  be  both  interesting  and  profitable  to  quote, 
did  the  limits  of  this  work  render  it  possible.  The  first  result  of  the  appeals 
then  made  by  the  commander  was  to  procure  an  increase  of  the  bounty  to 
twenty  dollars  and  one  hundred  acres  of  land  ;  at  the  same  time  the  British 
commander  was  paying  a  bounty  of  ten  pounds  for  every  recruit.  Washing- 


THE    BATTLE   AND   EVACUATION    OF   LONG    ISLAND. 

ton  urged  that,  if  the  pay  of  officers  were  not  increased,  those  best  worth 
the  keeping  would  leave  the  service  at  the  expiration  of  their  terms,  and 
that  the  same  might  be  expected  of  the  men  if  something  were  not  done 
to  retain  them.  He  said  that  the  voting  of  men  was  very  much  easier 
than  recruiting  them,  and  called  for  something  more  efficient  than  paper 
measures  for  the  preservation  of  the  army.  Early  in  October  he  was  given 
something  even  more  pressing  than  the  future  of  his  army  to  think  of — this 
was  its  immediate  safety.  After  nearly  a  month  of  inactivity,  the  British 
took  the  initiative  on  the  pth,  three  frigates  then  passing  up  the  Hudson, 
under  fire  of  Fort  Washington  and  Fort  Lee  opposite,  for  the  purpose  of 
testing  the  possibility  of  passing  these  forts  and  the  chcvaux  de  frise,  with 
which  Putnam  had  obstructed  the  river  between  them.  Both  the  guns  and 
the  obstructions  proved  ineffective,  and  Howe,  finding  that  he  could  control 
the  lower  Hudson,  embarked  a  large  detachment  of  his  army  in  boats  of 
light  draft,  and  passing  through  Hell  gate  landed  them  at  Throg's  neck, 
about  nine  miles  from  the  American  camp  on  Harlem  heights.  Upon 
learning  of  this  movement,  Washington  sent  a  message  to  General  Heath, 
in  command  of  King's  bridge,  to  hold  himself  ready  for  any  emergency,  hur 
ried  his  own  men  to  their  alarm  posts  and  himself  galloped  to  Throg's  neck, 
to  reconnoitre.  The  peninsula  was  separated  from  the  main  land  by  a 
narrow  creek  and  by  a  marsh,  over  which  were  constructed  a  bridge  and 
causeway.  As  soon  as  the  British  had  landed  they  pushed  forward  a  force  to 
take  possession  of  this  bridge,  but  found  its  planking  torn  up  and  the  cause 
way  already  held  by  Colonel  Hand,  with  his  Philadelphia  riflemen,  who 
opened  a  brisk  fire  at  the  approach  of  the  enemy.  Hand  was  soon  rein 
forced  by  Colonel  Prescott's  Massachusetts  regiment,  and  a  body  of  artillery 
with  a  field  piece.  Baffled  at  this  point,  the  enemy  moved  up  the  creek 
intending  to  cross  at  a  ford,  some  distance  above,  but  this,  too,  was  held  in 
such  force  as  to  forbid  an  effort  against  it,  and  the  enemy  went  into  camp 
upon  the  peninsula,  the  riflemen  keeping  up  a  brisk  fire  at  each  other  across 
the  dividing  creek.  Both  Americans  and  English  threw  up  works  defending 
the  passes  to  the  neck.  In  the  afternoon  nine  ships,  with  a  fleet  of  schooners 
and  sloops  impressed  for  the  service,  passed  up  the  sound  and  made  for  the 
neck.  General  Greene  sent  word  that  every  tent  had  been  struck  on  Staten 
island  and  there  seemed  little  doubt  that  the  scene  of  action  was  to  be 
transferred  to  the  new  field  thus  selected. 

On  the  1 4th  of  October,  General  Lee  arrived  at  Washington's  head 
quarters,  fresh  from  his  victory  in  the  South,  and  full  of  ambition  for  the 
future.  Washington  had  the  greatest  admiration  for  Lee's  ability  as  a 
soldier  and  an  undue  modesty  as  to  his  own  skill ;  he  did  not  suspect  Lee 
of  being  what  he  really  was,  a  thoroughly  selfish  adventurer,  moved  only 
by  personal  considerations,  without  patriotism,  and  capable  of  the  basest 
treachery  to  his  friends.  He  did  not  know  that,  even  at  that  time,  Lee,  in 


HO  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

personal  conversation  and  correspondence,  as  well  as  in  his  letters  to  Con 
gress,  was  endeavoring,  by  innuendo  and  by  slighting  insinuations,  to  injure 
his  commander  in  chief.  Lee  was  at  once  given  the  command  of  all  troops 
above  King's  bridge,  ranking  Heath,  a  more  faithful,  if  not  an  equally 
brilliant  officer,  and,  on  the  same  day,  wrote  to  Gates, — a  kindred  spirit, — 
criticising  the  disposition  of  the  army,  and  concluding  as  follows  :  ' '  Inter 
nos,  the  Congress  seem  to  stumble  at  every  step  ;  I  do  npt  mean  one  or  two 
of  the  cattle,  but  the  whole  stable.  I  have  been  very  fair  in  delivering  my 
opinion  of  them.  In  my  opinion  General  Washington  has  been  much  to 
blame,  in  not  menacing  Congress  with  resignation  unless  they  refrain  from 
unhinging  the  army  by  their  absurd  interference.  Keep  us  Ticonderoga; 
much  depends  on  it.  We  ought  to  have  an  army  in  the  Delaware.  I  have 
roared  it  in  the  ears  of  Congress  but  carent  auribus  ;  adieu,  my  dear  friend ; 
if  we  do  not  meet  again,  why,  we  shall  smile." 

As  Lee's  course  had  so  much  to  do  with  determining  the  result  of  the 
subsequent  campaign,  an  example  of  this  "  roaring  it  into  the  ears  of  Con 
gress  "  may  not  be  amiss.  In  a  letter  written  from  Amboy  to  the  president 
of  Congress,  on  the  I2th  of  October,  he  said  :  "I  am  confident  they  will 
not  attack  General  Washington's  lines ;  such  a  measure  is  too  absurd  for  a 
man  of  Mr.  Howe's  genius ;  and  unless  they  have  received  flattering 
accounts  from  Burgoyne,  that  he  will  be  able  to  effectuate  a  junction  (which 
I  conceive  they  have  not)  they  will  no  longer  remain  kicking  their  heels  in 
New  York.  They  will  put  the  place  in  a  respectable  state  of  defense, 
which,  with  their  command  of  the  waters,  may  be  easily  done,  leave  four  or 
five  thousand  men,  and  direct  their  operations  to  a  more  decisive  object. 
They  will  infallibly  proceed  either  directly  up  the  river  Delaware,  with  their 
whole  troops,  or,  what  is  more  probable,  land  somewhere  about  South 
Amboy,  or  Shrewsbury,  and  march  straight  to  Trenton  or  Burlington.  On 
the  supposition  that  this  is  to  be  the  case,  what  are  we  to  do  ?  What  force 
have  we  ?  What  means  have  we  to  prevent  their  possessing  themselves  of 
Philadelphia  ?  General  Washington's  army  can  not  possibly  keep  pace  with 
them.  The  length  of  his  route  is  not  only  infinitely  greater,  but  his  obstruc 
tions  almost  insuperable.  In  short,  before  we  could  cross  Hudson  river, 
they  might  be  lodged  and  strongly  fortified  on  both  banks  of  the  Delaware. 
For  heaven's  sake,  arouse  yourself !  For  heaven's  sake  let  ten  thousand 
men  be  immediately  assembled  and  stationed  somewhere  about  Trenton. 
In  my  opinion  your  whole  depends  upon  it.  I  set  out  immediately  for 
headquarters,  where  I  shall  communicate  my  apprehension  that  such  will  be 
the  next  operation  of  the  enemy,  and  urge  the  expediency  of  sparing  a  part 
of  his  army,  if  he  has  any  to  spare,  for  this  object." 

The  British  permitted  themselves  to  remain  for  the  time  safely  caged  at 
Throgs  neck,  while  awaiting  reinforcements  and  supplies,  Howe  thus  losing 
a  golden  opportunity  by  his  failure  to  force  his  way  to  and  attack  the 


THE    BATTLE    AND    EVACUATION    OF    LONG    ISLAND.  Ill 

American  position  at  King's  bridge.  Congress  about  the  same  time  sent  a 
message  to  Washington,  conjuring  him  to  hold  control  of  the  Hudson,  to 
obstruct  it  in  such  manner  as  to  prevent  the  passage  of  more  British  vessels 
up  the  stream,  or  the  retreat  of  those  already  above  the  forts,  and  in  no 
event  to  give  up  Fort  Washington,  and  the  twin  defense  across  the  river, 
t.ien  re-christened  Fort  Lee. 

This  dictation  of  Congress  was  peculiarly  unfortunate  at  that  time,  and 
later  events  showed  it  to  have  been  very  ill-advised.  The  people  had  not 
yet  learned  the  danger  of  hampering  a  commander  with  legislative  inter 
ference,  and  public  opinion  demanded,  as  well,  that  he  take  no  important 
step  without  first  calling  a  council  of  war.  Hence,  Washington  called  such 
a  council.  The  main  question  to  be  discussed  was  as  to  the  holding  or 
abandonment  of  the  positions  then  occupied  by  the  army.  That  the  troops 
were  strongly  placed  for  immediate  defense  was  admitted  by  all,  and  the  ques 
tion  placed  before  the  council  for  its  vote  was  thus  entered  upon  its  record : 
"whether  (it  having  appeared  that  the  obstructions  in  the  North  river  had 
proved  insufficient,  and  that  the  enemy's  whole  force  is  now  in  our  rear  on 
Throg's  point)  it  is  now  deemed  impossible  in  our  situation  to  prevent  the 
enemy  from  cutting  off  the  communication  with  the  country,  and  compel 
ling  us  to  fight  them  at  all  disadvantages  or  surrender  prisoners  at  discre 
tion."  Every  member  of  the  council,  save  General  George  Clinton,  voted 
that  such  prevention  was  impossible  and  that  the  position  must  be  aban 
doned.  It  was  hence  determined  to  move  the  army  up  the  North  river 
and  so  place  it  that  its  left,  extended  toward  White  Plains,  should  overlap 
the  British  right  and  keep  open  communication  with  the  country.  For  the 
purpose  of  this  movement  the  arm}'  was  formed  into  four  divisions,  com 
manded  by  Lee,  Heath,  Sullivan,  and  Lincoln.  Lee  was  directed  to  remain 
on  Valentine's  hill,  opposite  King's  bridge,  to  cover  the  removal  of  stores 
and  heavy  artillery ;  the  remaining  divisions  were  established  in  fortified 
camps  along  the  west  bank  of  the  Bronx  river — a  deep  but  narrow  stream, 
affording  excellent  protection — from  Lee's  camp  to  the  village  of  White 
Plains,  a  distance  of  thirteen  miles.  A  strong  garrison  was  also  placed  in 
Fort  Washington,  under  command  of  Colonel  Morgan,  and  that  officer  was 
directed  to  hold  the  fort  to  the  last  extremity.  The  movement  was  begun 
andcarri-ed  out  with  great  celerity  and  perfect  success.  Washington's  head 
quarters  remained  on  Harlem  heights  until  the  2ist,  when  they  were 
removed  to  Valentine's  hill,  and,  on  the  23d  were  again  changed  to  the 
village  of  White  Plains. 

Howe,  finding,  after  waiting  six  days  for  his  reinforcements  and  sup 
plies,  that  the  causeway  from  Throg's  point  was  destroyed  and  his  advance 
cut  off,  embarked  his  men  and  landed  on  Pell's  point,  across  Eastchester 
bay  from  his  former  position.  There  he  was  joined  by  the  main  body,  with 
baggage  and  artillery,  and  pushed  on  through  Pelham's  Manor,  in  the  direc- 


112  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

tion  of  New  Rochelle.  His  desire  was  still  to  obtain  a  foothold  in  the  rear 
of  the  American  force,  but  in  this  he  did  not  succeed,  taking  up  his  posi 
tion  at  the  village  of  New  Rochelle.  On  the  march  the  British  advance  was 
several  times  attacked  and  thrown  into  confusion,  with  loss;  on  the  2ist 
General  Lord  Stirling,  learning  that  the  renegade  Rogers  commanded  one  of 
Howe's  outposts  on  the  sound,  resolved  to  attempt  a  surprise  of  the  post 
and  the  capture  of  Rogers.  To  this  end  he  detached  Colonel  Haslet,  with 
seven  hundred  and  fifty  men  ;  Haslet  made  a  rapid  movement,  surprised  the 
post,  killed  an  officer  and  several  men,  and  brought  away  thirty-six  men,  a. 
pair  of  colors,  and  sixty  stand  of  arms.  Rogers,  whose  capture  was  the 
main  object  of  the  expedition,  skulked  away  through  the  darkness  and 
escaped.  Thus  many  bold  and  damaging  blows  were  struck  the  British, 
each  serving  to  give  the  Continental  army  greater  confidence  in  itself  and 
thus  better  fitting  it  for  more  serious  service. 

While  at  New  Rochelle,  Howe  was  joined  by  a  large  number  of  freshly 
arrived  troops,  including  a  new  division  of  Hessians,  under  General  Knyp- 
hausen,  a  regiment  of  Waldeckers,  and  two  regiments  of  dragoons,  from 
Ireland,  the  latter  being  the  first  regular  cavalry  that  had  appeared  in  ser 
vice  during  the  war.  Their  coming  was  the  cause  of  no  little  trepidation 
in  the  ranks  of  the  American  army,  their  efficiency  being  greatly  overrated, 
and  it  was  necessary  for  Washington,  before  his  men  would  be  at  all  reas 
sured,  to  point  out  in  his  general  orders  how  nearly  useless  they  were  in  so 
rough  a  country.  On  the  25th  news  came  to  headquarters  which  led  Washng- 
ton  to  concentrate  all  of  his  forces  from  the  stations  along  the  Bronx,  into 
the  fortified  camp  at  White  Plains,  and  also  to  take  possession  of  and  for 
tify  Chatterton's  hill,  a  considerable  eminence  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
Bronx,  commanding  the  camp.  Early  on  the  morning  of  the  25th  General 
Howe,  having  determined  to  attack  Washington's  camp,  advanced  two 
columns,  the  right  commanded  by  Sir  Henry  Clinton;  the  left  by  General 
Knyphausen.  It  was  about  10  o'clock  when  the  British  appeared  in  view, 
and  a  cannonade  was  opened  on  each  side.  Howe,  upon  viewing  the 
ground,  determined  to  dislodge  General  McDougal  and  the  regiment  of 
militia,  from  Chatterton's  hill.  Colonel  Rahl  was  accordingly  detached, 
with  a  brigade  of  Hessians,  to  make  a  detour  and  attack  the  hill  from  the 
south,  while  General  Leslie  should  throw  a  bridge  over  the  river  and  make 
a  direct  assault.  A  heavy  cannonade  was  opened  to  cover  the  building  of 
the  bridge,  and  the  work  was  begun  in  the  face  of  a  galling  fire  from  two 
field  pieces,  directed  by  Alexander  Hamilton,  then  a  young  artillery  officer. 
The  force  upon  the  hill  had  been  strengthened  by  the  addition  of  regulars, 
which  was  fortunate,  for  the  militia,  as  usual,  took  the  earliest  opportunity 
to  run  away.  The  regulars  fought  nobly,  twice  repulsing  the  charge  of  the 
British,  and,  finally  retired  slowly,  contesting  every  step,  when  the  superior 
numbers  of  the  enemy  made  defense  no  longer  wise.  The  Americans  lost 


THE    BATTLE   AND    EVACUATION    OF    LONG    ISLAND.  113 

in  this  brief  engagement  four  hundred  killed,  wounded  and   prisoners,  and 
the  British  loss  was  not  far  from  the  same. 

The  ensuing  night  was  spent  by  the  enemy  in  entrenching  the  newly 
acquired  hill,  and  by  the  Americans  in  strengthening  and  extending  their 
works.  The  latter  seemed,  as  usual,  to  have  called  in  the  assistance  of  some 
professor  of  black  art,  so  great,  and,  to  British  eyes,  so  marvelous  had  been 
their  progress.  They  had,  in  fact,  used  as  the  basis  of  their  works,  the 
stalks  of  corn,  pulled  from  a  neighboring  field,  with  the  earth  clinging  to 
the  roots,  and  these,  piled  with  the  roots  to  the  front,  and  filled  in  behind 
with  earth,  made  a  very  respectable  appearance  and  were,  in  fact,  proof 
against  small  arms.  Washington  also  changed  the  position  of  his  right  dur 
ing  the  night,  drawing  it  back  to  a  stronger  situation,  as  related  to  the  troops 
of  General  Howe. 

Howe  was  astounded  when  he  saw  the  result  of  the  night's  work.  He 
had  before  seen  something  of  the  kind  at  Dorchester  heights,  but  he  was 
none  the  more  prepared  for  this.  He  at  once  determined  to  await  reinforce 
ments  before  he  made  an  attack.  Awaiting  reinforcements  seemed  to  be 
Howe's  chronic  condition  during  that  campaign — on  Long  island,  at  Throg's 
neck,  and  now  at  White  Plains,  by  his  procrastination  he  gave  the  Ameri 
cans  just  what  they  sought.  When  Morris  arrived  from  Harlem,  with  a 
considerable  additional  force,  Howe  at  once  began  to  extend  his  works  with 
a  view  of  outflanking  the  Americans,  and  then  reducing  them  by  artillery. 
On  the  night  of  the  3 1st,  however,  Washington  again  confounded  the  pro 
jects  of  the  British,  by  changing  his  whole  position  for  one  five  miles  dis 
tant  among  the  rocky  heights  of  Northcastle,  burning  his  immovable  stores 
behind  him,  and  leaving  a.  strong  rearguard  to  tell  Clinton  whither  he  had 
gone.  Here,  as  well,  he  at  once  began  rearing  defenses,  but  Howe  seemed 
to  have  no  further  appetite  for  that  kind  of  warfare.  For  two  or  three  days 
he  remained  apparently  quite  inactive — then,  on  the  night  of  the  4th  of 
November,  the  Americans  heard  the  rumble  of  wheels  and  the  tramping 
of  brigades,  and,  at  daybreak,  saw  the  long  line  of  the  enemy  moving 
toward  the  Hudson,  but  on  what  errand  they  at  first  knew  not.  Very  soon, 
however,  it  became  evident  that  Howe's  movement  was  directed  primarily 
at  Fort  Washington,  and  it  was  considered  .more  than  probable  that,  beyond 
the  reduction  of  that  fort,  he  had  determined  to  cross  the  Hudson  and  gain 
control  of  New  Jersey,  with  indefinite  possibilities  as  to  movements  beyond. 
Washington  decided  not  to  leave  his  secure  position  until  he  was  informed 
of  Howe's  destination  as,  should  the  movement  prove  only  a  feint,  the 
latter  might  return  and  gain  his  rear.  He,  however,  determined  that,  if  the 
British  march  down  the  Hudson  were  continued,  he  would  d  ?tach  all  the 
portion  of  his  army  recruited  west  of  that  river  for  service  against  the  enemy 
in  that  quarter,  and  he  at  once  warned  Congress,  the  Governor  of  New 
Jersey,  and  General  Greene,  commanding  in  that  colony,  of  the  danger, 


H4  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

expressly  directing  the  last-named  to  watch  for  an  opportunity  to  assist  the 
garrison  of  Fort  Washington. 

As  General  Howe  approached  King's  bridge,  three  British  ships  of  war, 
undeterred  by  the  guns  of  Forts  Washington  and  Lee,  passed  up  the  river; 
and  Washington,  hearing  of  the  fact,  sent  word  to  Greene  that,  while  he 
should  not  attempt  to  dictate  to  one  on  the  ground,  he  did  not  consider  it 
prudent  to  risk  a  defense  of  Fort  Washington,  when  the  enemy  occupied 
the  surrounding  country,  and  commanded  the  river  as  well.  He  then  has 
tened  arrangements  for  conveying  the  western  troops  across  the  Hudson, 
determining  to  command  the  expedition  in  person,  leaving  Lee  in  command 
in  \Vestchester  county,  with  directions  to  follow  him,  so  soon  as  the  British 
had  crossed  the  river.  On  the  I3th  day  of  November,  after  inspecting  the 
posts  about  Peekskill  and  making  arrangements  for  their  defense,  Washington 
followed  the  troops  designed  for  service  in  New  Jersey,  across  the  river,  and 
found  Greene  near  Fort  Lee.  Greene  had  miscalculated  the  strength  of  the 
garrison  at  Fort  Washington,  and  had  not  complied  with  Washington's 
suggestion  that  it  be  evacuated.  Its  condition  was  now  most  critical. 
Howe  had,  in  fact,  made  its  reduction  the  principal  object  of  his  expedition, 
and  had  occupied  Fordham  heights,  not  far  from  King's  bridge,  to  await  the 
proper  time  for  an  offensive  movement.  On  the  night  of  November  1 4th, 
thirty  boats  were  taken  undiscovered  past  the  American  forts  and  into  the 
Harlem  river,  thus  providing  means  for  crossing  that  stream,  and  attacking 
the  works  at  such  points  as  should  be  deemed  most  vulnerable.  Howe,  on 
the  I5th,  sent  a  demand  for  the  surrender  of  the  garrison.  To  this  summons 
Magraw  returned  a  spirited  answer  that  he  would  defend  the  fort  to  the  last 
extremity,  and  sent  word  to  that  effect  to  General  Greene  at  Fort  Lee,  who 
communicated  with  Washington  at  Hackensack.  Washington  hastened  to 
Fort  Lee,  and,  Greene  reporting  to  him  that  the  garrison  was  in  high  spirits 
and  confident  of  success,  he  had  nothing  to  do  but  await  results.  At  10 
o'clock  on  the  following  morning  the  British  force  prepared  to  storm  the  fort 
at  four  points ;  five  thousand  Hessians  and  Waldeckers,  under  Knyphausen, 
were  to  approach  on  the  north ;  British  infantry  and  guards,  under  General 
Matthew,  supported  by  Lord  Cornwallis,  with  the  grenadiers  and  a  regiment 
of  infantry,  on  the  east.  The  third  movement  was  to  be  led  by  Lieutenant- 
colonel  Sterling,  who  was  to  drop  down  the  Harlem  in  boats,  and  make  an 
attack  from  the  side  facing  New  York  ;  and  Lord  Percy,  accompanied  by 
Howe  in  person,  was  to  approach  the  fort  from  the  south.  The  assault 
began  about  noon,  and  the  heavy  firing  of  both  parties  told  a  sufficient  story 
of  its  severity,  to  those  across  the  river.  The  defense  of  the  garrison  was, 
at  every  point,  most  determined.  The  attacks  upon  the  north  and  south 
were  made  by  Knyphausen  and  Percy  at  almost  the  same  time.  Colonel 
Cadwallader,  who  occupied  the  first  lines  at  the  south,  was  compelled  to 
give  way  and  retire  to  the  works,  by  the  success  of  the  second  and  third 


G  'E  O  R  G  E     G  UX  T  O  N., 


THE    BATTLE    AND    EVACUATION    OF    LONfi    ISLAND.  i;j 

divisions  of  the  British,  which  had  crossed  the  Harlem,  dispersed  the  troops 
on  that  side  of  the  fort,  and  were  threatening  his  rear.  As  it  was, 
some  portion  of  his  force  was  cut  off  and  captured  by  Sterling.  Rawlings, 
on  the  north,  held  his  position  stubbornly.  His  riflemen  and  a  battery  of 
three  guns  were  very  effective,  and  only  when  the  Hessians,  so  greatly  his 
superiors  in  number,  had  gained  a  footing  on  the  summit,  did  he  also  retire  to 
the  fort.  Howe  now  held  all  the  lines  and  the  positions  of  vantage  about  the 
fort  and  sent  in  another  summons  for  its  surrender.  The  defending  force 
was  not  large  enough  to  make  a  resistance  on  open  ground,  yet  too  large  to 
be  sheltered  by  the  works  ;  ammunition,  too,  had  run  very  low,  and,  consider 
ing  that  a  further  defense  would  be  but  a  useless  sacrifice  of  life,  Magraw 
surrendered,  the  entire  garrison  becoming  prisoners  of  war.  A  mes 
sage,  sent  by  Washington,  urging  Magraw  to  hold  the  fort  until  night, 
when  an  effort  would  be  made  to  take  off  the  troops,  came  too  late  to  arrest 
the  negotiation,  and  it  seems  very  doubtful  whether  the  works  could  have 
been  so  long  defended,  and,  had  they  been  so  held,  whether  the  garrison 
could  have  been  taken  off. 

The  loss  of  Fort  Washington  was  not  a  vital  matter;  the  loss  at  Fort 
Washington  was  well  nigh  irreparable — probably  falling  little,  if  any,  below 
four  thousand  killed,  wounded,  and  captured,  and  these  the  most  valuable 
troops  of  the  army.  Preparations  were  at  once  made  for  the  abandonment 
of  Fort  Lee,  but  the  arrival  of  Lord  Cornwallis  in  the  neighborhood,  with 
a  strong  detachment  of  British,  compelled  a  precipitate  retirement  of  the 
garrison,  leaving  behind  tents,  blankets,  tools,  cooking  utensils,  provisions, 
and  stores,  and  all  the  heavy  artillery  save  two  twelve-pounders.  Washing 
ton,  finding  himself  in  danger  of  being  entrapped  between  two  rivers, 
retreated  across  the  Hackensack  and  posted  his  men  temporarily  upon  its 
western  bank. 


GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  NEW  JERSEY  CAMPAIGN.— BATTLES  OF  TRENTON  AND  PRINCETON. 

THERE  can  be  no  doubt  that  with  the  loss  of  Fort  Washington  opened 
the  darkest  era  in  the  war  of  independence.  Beyond  the  middle  of 
November,  the  cold  of  a  severe  Northern  winter  before  him,  Washington 
had  under  his  immediate  command  but  three  thousand  men  who  could, 
by  any  stretch  of  imagination,  be  classed  as  effective.  These  were  ragged, 
many  of  them  barefooted,  without  shelter,  lacking  provisions,  dispirited, 
defeated.  The  militia  had  very  largely  anticipated  the  expiration  of  their 
service,  which  was  to  come  upon  the  ist  of  December,  and  had  gone  home 
in  bodies ;  none  could  be  counted  upon  to  remain  longer  than  they  were 
bound  to  do.  To  add  to  all,  very  many  of  the  regulars  in  all  branches  of 
the  army  would  be  entitled  to  a  discharge  upon  the  ist  day  of  January. 
The  worst  feature  of  the  situation  was  that,  with  his  army  thus  melting 
away  before  his  eyes,  Washington  saw  no  definite  prospect  of  replacing  it ; 
the  weak  policy  of  Congress,  coupled  with  the  unfortunate  result  of  the 
year's  campaign,  had  left  the  recruiting  experiment  an  undeniable  failure. 
The  colonies  were  all  depressed  by  disaster — the  middle  ones,  Pennsyl 
vania,  New  Jersey,  and  New  York,  of  more  than  doubtful  loyalty  to  the 
cause;  on  the  ground  which  he  occupied  and  where  his  operations  in  the 
immediate  future  bade  fair  to  be  carried  on,  such  subsistence  and  support  as 
he  could  not  command  by  force,  he  stood  little  chance  of  obtaining.  Nev 
ertheless,  with  this  almost  hopeless  prospect  before  him,  he  never  for  a 
moment  lost  heart  or  meditated  submission.  His  question  to  himself  was 
never,  "Can  I  do  this  thing?"  but  always,  "How  shall  I  do  it?"  This  is 
the  key  to  Washington's  character.  Brave  in  the  field;  a  natural  soldier 
and  tactician ;  fertile  in  originating  and  bold  in  executing  the  most  daring 
plans,  yet  to  this  century  and  still  more  to  those  beyond  us,  he  must  ever 
stand  as  greatest  in  the  hours  of  discouragement,  trial,  and  inaction.  Such 
steadfastness,  patience,  devotion,  modesty,  and  faith,  find  no  parallel  in 
history. 


THE    NEW    JERSEY    CAMPAIGN.  I  I/ 

After  making  the  camp  upon  the  Hackensack,  his  first  care  was  to 
draw  upon  his  slender  resources  for  an  army  which  might  at  least  make  a 
show  of  opposition  to  the  British  and  check  the  growing  disaffection,  which 
was  as  much  the  result,  of  lack  of  faith  in  the  result  as  of  any  predilection 
in  favor  of  Great  Britain,  on  the  part  of  any  of  the  colonies.  With  this 
view  he  dispatched  to  General  Schuyler,  at  Ticonderoga,  directions  to  send 
to  him  at  once  all  New  Jersey  and  Pennsylvania  troops  under  his  command. 
His  knowledge  of  human  nature  told  him  that  men  would  fight  best  in 
the  defense  of  their  own  soil,  and  that  the  detention  of  troops  from  men 
aced  colonies  at  distant  points,  could  not  fail  of  causing  dissatisfaction.  He 
also  sent  orders  to  General  Lee  to  cross  the  Hudson  and  be  in  readiness  to 
join  him  should  occasion  demand  it.  Lee's  tardiness,  which  subsequent 
history  has  almost  justified  us  in  ascribing  to  disloyalty,  was  one  of  the 
greatest  drawbacks  to  the  success  of  a  campaign,  which  might  otherwise 
have  been  decisive  in  favor  of  the  colonies.  The  limits  of  this  work  will 
not  permit  of  rehearsing  the  arguments  used  by  Washington  to  influence 
Congress  in  favor  of  organizing  a  permanent  and  efficient  army.  They 
were  the  same  already  given  in  these  pages,  only  elaborated  and  empha 
sized,  and  they  had  no  greater  effect  during  the  terrible  winter  campaign 
which  followed,  than  to  secure  to  the  army  a  slender  and  at  no  time  reliable 
reinforcement.  He  made  an  appeal  to  New  England,  and  six  thousand 
Massachusetts  troops,  with  a  considerable  number  from  Connecticut,  were 
massed  to  join  him,  when  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  moving  by  water  from  New 
York,  seized  Newport,  and  the  home  exigency  proved  too  strong  for  the 
Governors. 

Washington  first  deserted  his  position  upon  the  Hackensack,  passed 
the  Passaic,  and  established  himself  at  Newark,  pursuit  being  temporarily 
cut  off  by  the  destruction  of  the  Hackensack  bridge.  Then  the  British 
army  crossed  the  Passaic  and  the  American  commander,  leaving  them  to 
take  possession  of  Newark,  moved  on  to  Brunswick,  only  a  few  hours 
before  their  coming. 

The  incidents  of  this  remarkable  game  of  war  cannot  be  followed  here. 
Cornwallis,  constantly  expecting  to  checkmate  his  adversary,  was  as  con 
stantly  baffled.  Washington  retreated  from  town  to  town,  until,  on  the 
2d  day  of  December,  he  reached  Trenton,  on  the  Delaware,  the  river  hav 
ing  been  scoured  for  seventy  miles,  and  all  boats  collected  at  that  point,  to 
secure  the  double  purpose  of  a  means  of  crossing  for  the  Americans,  if  such 
should  be  necessary,  and,  in  their  absence,  a  check  to  the  British.  It  being 
considered  probable  that  no  successful  stand  could  be  made  on  the  nearer 
bank  of  the  river,  the  crossing  of  the  scanty  stores  and  impedimenta  was 
made  in  safety,  the  sick  were  sent  to  Philadelphia,  and  only  the  effective 
army  remained.  At  no  time  during  the  wonderful  march  from  Fort  Lee  to 
the  bank  of  the  Delaware,  had  Washington's  force — it  can  scarcely  be  called 


Il8  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

an  army — numbered  more  than  four  thousand  men ;  when  the  partial 
crossing  was  made  it  was  a  thousand  less.  With  this  he  had  annoyed, 
foiled,  and  escaped  from  an  army  vastly  superior  in  numbers,  flushed  with 
victory,  and  perfectly  equipped,  and  had  led  the  enemy  a  chase,  through 
an  almost  hostile  country,  still  keeping  his  men  together  and  maintaining 
their  discipline  and  spirit,  though  many  of  them  were  without  shoes,  some 
died  from  cold  by  the  way,  and  all  suffered  as  few  are  called  upon  to  suffer. 
This  retreat  and  the  offensive  movements  that  followed  it  are  justly  con 
sidered  among  the  greatest  military  achievements  in  history. 

At  this  time,  General  Sir  William  and  Admiral  Lord  Howe,  as  royal 
commissioners  for  the  restoration  of  peace,  issued  a  proclamation,  calling 
upon  all  persons  in  arms  against  the  king  to  disband  and  disperse  to  their 
homes,  and  all  persons  holding  civil  authority  to  relinquish  the  same, 
promising  to  such  as  should  conform  to  these  requirements,  and  within 
thirty  days  sign  a  prescribed  declaration  of  submission  to  the  authority  of 
his  majesty,  full  and  free  pardon.  Copies  of*  this  declaration  were  scattered 
broadcast  throughout  the  colonies,  and  in  many  cases  were  readily  taken  by 
persons  only  too  eager  to  secure  themselves  against  the  consequences  of  so 
doubtful  a  conflict. 

On  the  yth  of  December,  Washington,  having  received  a  reinforcement  of 
fifteen  hundred  men  from  Philadelphia,  and  the  promise  of  another  regiment, 
and  feeling  that  some  active  operations  were  necessary  to  counteract  the 
effect  of  the  manifesto  referred  to,  set  out  for  Princeton,  hoping  that  his 
appearance  might  check  the  British  advance  and  procure  the  re-establish 
ment  of  patriotic  feeling  in  New  Jersey.  On  the  march  he  learned  that 
Cornwallis,  having  been  largely  reinforced,  was  making  a  forced  advance 
from  Brunswick,  in  the  endeavor  to  gain  his  rear.  Hence  he  retreated, 
crossed  the  Delaware,  and  so  bestowed  his  men  as  best  to  guard  the  fords 
of  the  river.  The  last  boat-load  had  not  reached  the  further  bank  when 
Cornwallis  appeared.  Finding  that  his  quarry  had  escaped  him,  he  estab 
lished  his  army  with  the  main  body  at  Trenton  and  detachments  posted  up 
and  down  the  river  to  a  considerable  distance. 

The  days  immediately  following  the  crossing  of  the  Americans,  which 
occurred  on  the  8th,  were  spent  by  Cornwallis  in  a  vain  effort  to  secure 
means  of  following  the  colonial  force;  this  failing,  he  placed  his  men  in 
winter  quarters,  and  the  main  body  of  General  Howe's  army,  having  fol 
lowed  him  into  New  Jersey,  was  also  quartered  at  various  points  so  as  to 
hold  possession  of  the  colony.  It  is  probable  that  Howe  would  gladly 
have  held  the  Americans  in  safe  inaction  until  the  expiration  of  the  sixty 
days  named  in  his  proclamation,  at  the  same  time  extending  his  posts  and 
influence  so  as  to  seriously  as  possible  undermine  the  patriot  cause. 

It  is  now  necessary  to  give  a  little  attention  to  the  proceedings  of  Gen 
eral  Lee.     It  was  on  the  2ist  of  November  that  Washington  ordered  him 


THE    NEW    JERSEY    CAMPAIGN.  119 

to  cross  the  Hudson  with  all  dispatch,  and  hold  himself  ready  to  join  the 
main  army,  should  the  British  move  into  New  Jersey.  The  enemy  had  made 
such  a  movement,  and  the  commander  had  at  once  placed  Lee  under  posi 
tive  orders  to  report  to  him  with  his  army.  In  spite  of  all  this,  it  was  the 
3Oth  day  of  November  before  Lee  reached  Peekskill,  little  more  than 
the  outset  of  his  march.  At  that  point  he  ordered  General  Heath  to 
detach  two  regiments  from  his  defense,  to  move  into  New  Jersey  with  the 
army.  This  Heath  refused  to  do,  urging  the  seemingly  ample  reason  that 
he  was  under  written  orders  of  the  commander  in  chief,  not  to  weaken  his 
force.  Lee  asserted  his  right  as  Heath's  ranking  officer,  when  Heath  said: 
"You  are  my  superior  officer.  You  can  doubtless  order  the  regiments  to 
join  you,  but  you  must  do  it  yourself,  for  I  shall  obey  my  orders."  Lee 
gave  orders  that  the  regiments  should  proceed  with  him,  and  they  would 
doubtless  have  done  so  had  not  Heath  required  a  written  certificate  from 
Lee,  that  the  latter  had  assumed  command  and  issued  his  own  orders.  Hav 
ing  given  this,  and  the  regiments  being  in  marching  order,  Lee  changed 
his  mind  and  sent  them  back  to  their  camp.  In  writing  from  Peekskill, 
under  date  of  the  3Oth,  in  answer  to  a  letter  from  Washington,  complaining 
of  the  slowness  of  his  movements,  Lee  said  that  he  had  been  delayed  by 
difficulties  which  he  would  explain  when  both  had  leisure.  His  letters 
throughout  have  this  same  tone  of  cool  impertinence,  not  to  say  contempt, 
which,  in  a  better  organized  army,  arid  with  a  less  patient  commander,  would 
have  subjected  him  to  immediate  removal  and  court-martial.  One  letter 
says  that  he  will  move  across  the  river  "the  day  after  to-morrow,"  when  he 
"will  be  happy  to  receive  your  [Washington's]  instructions,"  but  "could 
wish"  that  they  would  bind  him  as  little  as  possible,  from  a  persuasion  that 
detached  generals  cannot  have  too  great  latitude.  And  all  the  time  this 
man  was  under  distinct  orders  to  forthwith  join  General  Washington  at  the 
headquarters  of  the  latter.  Kven  then  he  did  not  keep  his  word,  for  it  was 
not  until  December  4th  that  he  crossed  the  river.  On  the  8th  of  December 
Lee  had  moved  no  farther  than  Morristown,  in  spite  of  repeated  and  urgent 
messages  from  Washington.  That  his  disregard  of  orders  was  cool  and 
deliberate,  is  sufficiently  indicated  by  a  letter  written  by  him  on  that  day  to 
the  committee  of  Congress.  In  it  he  said:  "If  I  was  not  taught  to  think 
the  army  of  Washington  was  considerably  reinforced,  I  should  immediately 
join  him  ;  but  as  I  am  assured  he  is  very  strong,  I  should  imagine  we  could 
make  a  better  impression  by  beating  up  and  harassing  their  detached  posts 
in  their  rear,  for  which  purpose  a  good  post  at  Chatham  is  the  best  calcu 
lated."  On  the  same  day  he  wrote  to  Washington  to  say  that  he  was 
"extremely  shocked  to  hear  that  his  force  was  so  inadequate,  and  that  he 
had  held  himself  in  the  rear  of  the  enemy  that  he  might  more  effectually 
co-operate  in  any  offensive  movement.  He  also  expressed  a  doubt  as  to 
Philadelphia  being  the  objective  point  of  the  enemy.  Washington  at  once 


I2O  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

replied:  " Philadelphia,  beyond  all  question,  is  the  object  of  the  enemy's 
movements,  and  nothing  less  than  our  utmost  exertions  will  prevent  Gen 
eral  Howe  from  possessing  it.  The  force  I  have  is  weak  and  utterly  incom 
petent  to  that  end.  I  must  therefore  entreat  you  to  push  on  with  every 
possible  succor  you  can  bring."  Lee  remained  at  Morristown  until  the  I  ith, 
and  then  wrote  again  to  his  general,  proposing  to  push  to  Burlington,  and 
desiring  that  boats  for  his  crossing  be  sent  to  that  point  from  Philadelphia. 
Washington  then  wrote  him  a  letter,  which  displayed  the  nearest  approach 
to  asperity  of  any  drawn  from  him  during  the  whole  of  this  disgraceful 
march.  "I  am  surprised,"  he  says,  "that  you  should  be  in  any  doubt 
respecting  the  road  you  should  take,  after  the  information  you  have  received 
on  that  head.  t  A  large  number  of  boats  was  procured  and  is  still  retained  at 
Tinicum,  under  strong  guard,  to  facilitate  your  passage  across  the  Delaware. 
I  have  so  frequently  mentioned  our  situation,  and  the  necessity  of  your  aid, 
that  it  is  painful  for  me  to  add  a  word  on  the  subject.  Congress  has 
directed  Philadelphia  to  be  defended  to  the  last  extremity.  The  fatal  conse 
quences  that  must  attend  its  loss  are  but  too  obvious  to  every  one.  Your 
arrival  may  be  the  means  of  saving  it."  Schuyler  had,  in  the  meantime,  dis 
patched  Gates  with  several  regiments  to  reinforce  Washington.  Three  of 
these  regiments  descended  the  Hudson  to  Peekskill  and  Lee,  learning  of 
their  presence  there,  took  it  upon  himself  to  order  them  to  join  him  at  Mor 
ristown,  which  they  did.  The  four  remaining  joined  Washington  on  the 
2Oth  of  December. 

On  the  1 2th  of  December,  Lee  left  Morristown  and,  after  marching  but 
eight  miles,  encamped  his  army  at  Vealtown,  himself  riding  to  a  tavern 
three  miles  without  the  lines  to  spend  the  night.  During  the  evening  a 
tory  farmer  came  to  him  with  a  complaint  regarding  a  horse  which  had  been 
taken  from  him  by  the  army.  Lee  dismissed  the  man  very  curtly,  and, 
after  spending  the  evening  until  a  late  hour  over  his  correspondence,  retired. 
He  slept  late  in  the  morning  and  finally  appeared  in  a  very  slovenly  dress, 
dispatched  orders  to  Sullivan,  his  second  in  command,  to  march — in  a  direc 
tion,  however,  clearly  indicating  a  disregard  of  Washington's  orders — and 
was  about  to  breakfast,  when  there  came  an  alarm  that  the  British  were  at 
hand.  The  guards  had  stacked  their  arms  and  were  endeavoring  to  keep  warm 
on  the  sunny  side  of  the  house.  In  a  moment  the  tavern  was  surrounded, 
the  general  taken,  mounted — attired  as  he  was — and  hurried  a  prisoner  to  the 
British  lines,  twenty  miles  distant.  Sullivan,  as  soon  as  he  learned  the  fate 
of  Lee,  changed  the  course  of  the  march,  in  accordance  with  the  orders  of 
Washington,  and  joined  the  army  of  the  latter  on  December  2Oth.  Lee 
thus  fell  a  victim  to  his  own  recklessness  and  to  his  lack  of  courtesy  to  the 
farmer  who  had  called  upon  him  on  the  evening  of  the  I2th,  as  the.  latter 
had  taken  revenge  by  giving  information  of  his  whereabouts  and  of  his 
almost  defenseless  condition,  at  the  nearest  post  of  the  British  army,  and  it 


THE    NEW   JERSEY    CAMPAIGN.  121 

had  required  no  argument  to  prevail  upon  the  officers  to  take  advantage  of  it. 
The  capture  of  Lee  was  at  that  time  regarded  by  the  American  people, 
by  the  Congress,  by  the  army,  and,  in  spite  of  all  occurrences,  by  Washing 
ton  himself,  as  a  great  misfortune.  There  was  something  about  his  dashing 
and  arrogant  manner  that  excited  confidence  ;  he  had  been  successful  in  his 
only  decisive  campaign ;  he  was  a  soldier  by  profession,  and  one  of  long  and 
varied  experience.  That  he  was  indeed  a  most  able  officer  was  then  and 
must  to-day  be  admitted.  Then,  too,  he  had  done  much  talking  and  writing 
to  good  effect.  He  had  predicted  the  British  movement  into  New  Jersey, 
he  had  openly  and  loudly  condemned  the  action  of  Congress  in  attempting 
to  hold  Fort  Washington,  while  the  commander  in  chief,  disapproving  it 
quite  as  strongly,  kept  silence.  Thus  he  had  the  people  with  him.  Then, 
too,  he  had  kept  up  direct  communication  with  Congress,  advising — almost 
dictating — what  should  be  done  and  what  omitted.  This  correspondence 
was  in  direct  derogation  of  the  dignity  of  Washington,  and  its  indulgence  by 
Congress  was  an  outrage,  yet  Lee  had  a  following  in  that  body  and  gained  its 
support  by  this  very  tacit  contempt  of  his  superior  officer.  During  the 
whole  of  his  service,  after  rejoining  the  army  at  New  York,  he  was  engaged 
in  writing  letters  to  various  persons,  all  calculated  to  exalt  himself  at  the 
expense  of  Washington.  One  of  these,  written  on  the  morning  of  his  cap 
ture,  to  his  confidant  and  sympathizer  Gates,  may  well  be  quoted.  It  should 
have  secured  his  instant  dismissal  from  the  army.  He  writes:  "The  ingen 
ious  manoeuvre  of  Fort  Washington  has  completely  unhinged  the  goodly 
fabric  we  have  been  building.  There  never  was  so  d — d  a  stroke  ;  cntrc 
nous,  a  certain  great  man  is  most  damnably  deficient.  He  has  thrown  me 
into  a  situation  in  which  I  have  my  choice  of  difficulties.  If  I  stay  in  this 
province  I  risk  myself  and  army,  and  if  I  do  not  stay  the  province  is  lost 
forever.  As  to  what  relates  to  yourself,  if  you  think  you  can  be  in  time  to 
aid  the  general,  I  would  have  you  by  all  means  go  ;  you  will  at  least  save 
your  army."  What  words  are  these  for  a  soldier  to  use  of  his  commander! 
Here  are  two  officers,  under  positive  orders  to  do  a  certain  thing,  calmly 
discussing  the  advisability  of  obeying  the  instructions  of  their  general !  If 
this  letter  means  what  its  words  fairly  imply,  then  there  was  more  in  it  than 
an  offense  against  military  etiquette,  and  Lee's  ambition  should  have 
brought  the  blind-fold  and  the  volley,  rather  than  the  epaulets  he  sought. 
No,  the  capture  of  Lee  and  his  subsequent  retirement  from  the  service  was 
unquestionably  a  most  fortunate  event  for  the  colonies.  His  delay  and 
evidently  determined  disobedience  of  Washington's  orders  were  clearly  pre 
meditated  and  adopted  in  furtherance  of  a  deliberate  plan.  He  was  laying 
the  foundation  for  his  own  advancement  to  the  supreme  command,  at  the 
expense  of  Washington.  By  holding  back  his  army  he  believed  the  com 
mander  in  chief  might  be  defeated  or  at  least  rendered  incapable  of  resist 
ance  ;  he  himself  might  by  a  bold  move  break  the  British  cordon,  come  to  the 


122  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

succor  of  Philadelphia,  gain  the  eclat  of  a  possible  victory,  leaving  to  Wash 
ington  the  ignominy  of  certain  failure  and,  perhaps,  gain  the  command,  risk 
ing,  in  its  pursuit,  the  safety  of  the  army  and  the  whole  future  of  the  Ameri 
can  cause.  To  this  end  he  had  sought  to  strengthen  his  army  by  a  draft  from 
Heath,  and  had  afterwards  wrongfully  intercepted  the  regiments  sent  by 
Schuyler  to  join  Washington. 

The  additional  numerical  force  gained  to  Washington  by  the  arrival 
of  Gates'  and  Lee's  men,  was  of  very  questionable  advantage.  The  men  had 
been  so  long  on  the  march,  in  the  dead  of  a  very  severe  winter,  that  a  very 
large  proportion  of  them  were  absolutely  unfit  for  duty,  and  the  hospital  was 
better  reinforced  than  the  line.  Some  hatless,  coatless,  many  without  shoes, 
footsore,  frozen,  half  fed,  they  presented  as  miserable  an  appearance  as  any 
body  of  men  that  ever  undertook  a  military  service.  Yet  Washington  was 
quite  determined  that  service  should  be  done,  and  that  quickly  He 
saw  the  immediate  danger  of  his  position  on  the  Delaware,  and  that, 
more  remote,  involved  in  the  freezing  of  the  river,  which  would  open 
the  way  to  Howe.  Hence  he  determined  upon  an  offensive  movement, 
and  perfected  arrangements  to  carry  it  into  effect  on  the  night  of 
December  25th.  The  weather  was  bitterly  cold,  and  the  river  was 
full  of  floating  ice,  which  a  day  or  two  of  such  temperature  would  ren 
der  solid.  The  plan  contemplated  a  three-fold  movement.  General  Ewing 
was  to  cross  the  river  at  Trenton  ferry  and  hold  the  bridge  across  Assum- 
pinck  creek,  below  the  town  ;  General  Cadwallader  was  to  pass  over  at 
Dunck's  ferry  and  capture  the  post  at  Mount  Holly,  and  Washington  him 
self  was  to  land  a  force,  across  the  river  nine  miles  above  the  town,  at  mid 
night,  reach  Trenton  at  five  in  the  morning,  and,  Ewing  having  cut  off  the 
retreat  of  the  British,  surprise  and  capture  them.  This  being  successful 
further  movements  were  contemplated. 

Washington  took  for  the  service  two  thousand  six  hundred  men.  So 
severe  was  the  storm  and  so  heavy  the  ice  in  the  river,  it  was  3  o'clock 
before  his  crossing  was  completed,  and  nearly  four,  before  the  movement 
toward  Trenton  began.  Two  roads  of  nearly  the  same  length  led  to  the 
town, . and  the  force  was  divided  into  two  divisions,  one  going  by  each. 
Washington  commanded  the  upper  column,  and,  relying  upon  the  movement 
being  nearly  simultaneous,  gave  orders  to  the  other  to  make  an  attack 
immediately  upon  reaching  its  destination.  Washington's  column  arrived 
at  the  outpost  precisely  at  8  o'clock,  and  it  was  not  more  than  three  minutes 
before  he  heard  the  fire  from  the  force  which  had  taken  the  river  road.  The 
picket  guard  made  a  show  of  defense,  but  was  driven  in  at  once.  The 
Hessian  colonel,  Rahl,  formed  his  men  in  the  center  of  the  town,  and  sev 
eral  field  pieces  were  unlimbered  and  directed  at  the  approaching  Ameri 
cans,  but  were  captured  before  they  could  be  fired.  The  Hessians  then 
broke  and  fled,  but  were  reformed  by  their  commander  in  an  orchard  with- 


THE    NEW    JERSEY    CAMPAIGN.  123 

out  the  town.  At  that  point  he  seemed  to  lose  his  coolness  and  self-com 
mand;  there  was  still  a  possibility  of  escape  by  the  bridge,  and  that  failing, 
he  might  have  sought  a  defensible  position  and  perhaps  have  held  it ;  but 
he  could  not  brook  the  ignominy  of  a  flight,  which  would  have  injured  the 
reputation  he  had  so  well  won  at  White  Plains  and  Fort  Washington ;  his 
position  was  due  to  his  own  carelessness,  and  it  is  probable  that  mortifica 
tion  and  shame  led  him  to  the  suicidal  course  which  he  adopted.  Waving  his 
sword  over  his  head,  he  called  upon  his  men  to  follow,  and  charged  the 
town,  held,  as  it  was,  by  a  superior  force,  with  artillery  posted.  At  almost 
the  first  discharge,  he  paid  the  price  of  his  rashness,  falling  mortally 
wounded.  His  men  at  once  broke  and  fled,  striving  to  gain  the  bridge,  but 
Washington  had  foreseen  this  attempt,  and  they  were  cut  off,  and  grounded 
their  arms.  The  condition  of  the  river  had  prevented  General  E\ving  from 
carrying  out  his  part  of  the  design,  hence  the  bridge,  at  first  unguarded,  had 
afforded  an  avenue  of  escape  to  about  five  hundred  men,  part  of  whom  were 
cavalry.  Twenty  Hessians  were  killed  in  the  engagement;  not  far  from  one 
thousand  stand  of  arms  and  a  considerable  quantity  of  stores  captured. 
The  Americans  lost  two  men  killed,  two  frozen  to  death,  and  three  or  four 
men  wounded.  Among  the  latter  was  Lieutenant  Monroe,  of  Virginia, 
afterwards  President  of  the  United  States.  , 

Cadwallader,  too,  had  been  prevented  by  the  ice  in  the  river  from  ful 
filling  his  part  of  the  concerted  plan,  and  Washington,  in  spite  of  his  vic 
tory,  was  placed  in  a  position  of  the  most  immediate  peril — peril  which  might 
well  have  become  destruction,  had  not  the  flying  enemy  been  so  thoroughly 
terrified  as  to  exaggerate  his  strength  and  communicate  a  measure  of  their 
fear  to  those  at  other  posts  beyond.  There  are  in  existence  several  pub 
lished  works,  written  by  Hessian  officers,  stationed  at  Trenton,  and  who  par 
ticipated  in  the  engagement.  All  of  them  greatly  overstate  the  force  of 
the  Americans,  one  placing  it  at  fifteen  thousand — fully  six  times  as  great 
as  it  actually  was — another  at  six  thousand,  and  none  even  approximating 
the  truth.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  the  story  lost  anything  in  the  telling, 
and  it  is  more  than  likely  that  Washington's  little  force  owed  its  preserva 
tion  to  this  gratuitous  and  imaginary  reinforcement. 

The  capture  of  Trenton  was  not  in  itself  a  matter  of  much  moment ; 
the  winning  of  a  victory  was,  at  that  time,  all  important.  The  direct  result 
of  the  success  was  to  turn  the  British  back,  and,  for  the  time,  save  Phila 
delphia  ;  its  indirect  effect  was  to  give  new  confidence  to  the  army ;  new 
courage  to  the  colonies  ;  new  spirit  to  Congress,  to  break  through  the  web 
of  circumstance  which  seemed  to  doom  the  armies  and  the  hopes  of  the 
colonies  to  destruction  ;  to  counteract,  in  a  great  degree,  the  effect  of  Howe's 
manifesto,  offering  amnesty,  by  strengthening  the  weak-kneed  and  doubtful 
element  of  the  people,  and  to  render  possible,  what  before  seemed  hopeless, 
the  reorganization  of  the  army.  Washington  for  the  present  kept  his  posi- 


124 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON 


tion  at  Trenton.  Count  Donop,  commanding  the  British  below  Trenton, 
retreated  along  the  Amboy  road  and  joined  General  Leslie  at  Princeton. 
Cadwallader  crossed  the  Delaware,  believing,  in  the  absence  of  orders,  that 
Washington  would  push  on  in  pursuit  of  the  enemy,  and  desiring  to  co 
operate  with  him.  In  the  meantime  he  obtained  and  improved  some  oppor 
tunities  to  harass  the  enemy  and  increase  his  panic. 

Washington  was  now  quite  convinced  of  the  necessity  and  wisdom  of 
an  aggressive  campaign.  Hence  he  ordered  General  Heath  to  leave  a  small 
force  at  Peekskill  and  move  upon  Howe's  rear;  Maxwell  was  directed  to  col 
lect  all  available  militia  and  harass  his  flank,  while  Cadwallader  was  ordered 
to  join  the  main  force  at  Trenton.  On  the  second  day  of  January, 
Cornwallis  advanced  from  Princeton  in  force,  to  regain  Trenton.  At 
about  4  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  he  appeared  in  sight  of  the  town, 
when  the  Americans  retired  beyond  the  creek,  and  strongly  guarded 
all  the  fords.  Cornwallis,  finding  that  his  crossing  would  be  con 
tested,  went  into  camp,  lighting  his  fires,  and  disposing  himself  in 
comfort,  not  doubting  that  his  after-breakfast  exercise  on  the  morrow 
would  be  to  whip  the  little  force  of  rebels  opposed  to  him.  Then  Washing 
ton  conceived,  and  resolved  to  execute,  one  of  those  bold  and  vigorous 
movements  by  which  he  so  often  astonished  the  enemy.  He  had  at  Tren 
ton  only  about  five  thousand  effective  men ;  opposed  to  him  was  an  army 
vastly  greater  in  numbers  and  efficiency.  Should  he  risk  an  engagement 
defeat  was  almost  certain ;  the  river  was  frozen  over,  yet  thaws  had  ren 
dered  the  ice  so  rotten,  that  an  attempt  to  retreat  across  it  was  extremely 
hazardous,  and  might  result  in  the  destruction  of  his  army.  In  either  event 
there  would  remain  nothing  to  prevent  Cornwallis  from  moving  upon  and 
taking  possession  of  Philadelphia,  the  chief  point  to  be  guarded.  Washing 
ton  felt  certain  that  there  could  not  remain  any  very  considerable  force  at 
Princeton,  and  he  determined  to  make  a  night  march,  by  a  circuitous  route, 
and  endeavor  to  surprise  and  capture  that  town,  and,  if  possible,  the  post 
and  stores  at  the  village  of  Brunswick,  beyond.  A  council  of  war  agreed  to 
this  plan,  holding  that  it  would  probably  draw  Cornwallis  back  and  away 
from  Philadelphia,  and  that,  if  it  failed,  the  situation  could  scarcely  be 
worse  than  was  promised  if  the  army  remained  at  Trenton.  The  bag 
gage  was  silently  removed,  immediately  after  dark,  to  Burlington,  and, 
about  i  o'clock  in  the  morning,  having  renewed  the  fires  and  posted 
sentinels  as  usual,  the  army  moved  out  of  camp,  and,  by  the  roundabout 
Quaker  road,  proceeded  to  Princeton.  At  that  place  Cornwallis  had  left 
three  regiments,  two  of  which  set  out  at  daybreak  to  join  the  rear  of  their 
army  near  Trenton.  At  sunrise  these  regiments  discovered  the  Americans 
on  their  left,  marching  in  such  a  direction  as  to  reach  their  rear.  They 
retired  to  the  cover  of  some  timber  and  received  the  American  van,  led  by 
General  Mercer.  This  was  mostly  composed  of  militia.  The  few  regular! 


THE   NEW   JERSEY    CAMPAIGN.  12$ 

were  steady,  but  they  could  scarcely  restrain  the  raw  troops.  At  this 
doubtful  point  the  gallant  Mercer  fell,  mortally  wounded,  and  his  men, 
utterly  demoralized,  retreated  in  confusion.  The  main  body  coming  up, 
however,  Washington  threw  himself  into  the  front,  and,  exposing  himself  to 
imminent  danger,  forced  the  British  to  give  way.  One  of  the  two  regi 
ments  succeeded  in  gaining  the  main  road,  and  continued  to  Trenton  ;  the 
other  broke  across  the  field,  and  fled  toward  Brunswick  by  a  back  road. 
The  regiment  which  had  remained  in  Princeton  took  post  in  the  college 
building,  but  was  soon  dislodged  by  artillery,  and  the  greater  part  of  its 
men  became  prisoners.  The  British  loss  in  this  fight  was  more  than  one 
hundred  killed  and  about  three  hundred  captured.  The  Americans  lost 
fewer  men,  but  General  Mercer  and  nine  other  most  valuable  officers  were 
among  the  number. 

Cornwallis  awoke  in  the  morning  to  find  lacking  the  second  party  neces 
sary  to  any  successful  quarrel.  He  at  once  saw  how  he  had  been  duped, 
and  made  all  haste  to  return  to  Princeton,  and  thence  to  Brunswick.  The 
colonial  troops  were  too  much  exhausted  by  fatigue  and  exposure  to  per 
mit  of  following  out  the  plan  against  Brunswick.  Hence  Washington, 
allowing  them  to  rest  at  Princeton  until  the  latest  possible  moment,  moved 
out  of  the  town  just  before  Cornwallis  entered  it,  marched  his  troops  to 
Morristown  and  placed  them  under  cover,  where  they  might  recuperate. 
Later,  knowing  that  the  garrison  of  New  York  must  be  much  weakened, 
he  ordered  Heath  to  make  a  reconnoissance  in  force  and,  if  possible,  regain 
the  works  of  the  lower  Hudson;  Heath,  however,  was  obliged  to  forego 
any  attempt  against  them  and  to  return  to  Peekskill.  The  remainder  of 
the  winter  passed  away  without  any  operations  worthy  of  mention. 


126  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  BRANDYWINE  AND  LOSS  OF  PHILADELPHIA. 

LONG  chapter  might  be  written,  enlarging  upon  the  difficulties  of 
reorganization  which  faced  the  commander  at  this  most  critical  period. 
They  were  the  same  that  had  menaced  the  army  from  the  beginning,  arising 
irom  the  ruinous  system  of  short  enlistment.  Had  it  not  been  for  the  two 
intrinsically  small  advantages — that  at  Trenton  and  that  at  Princeton — spring 
would  certainly  have  found  Washington  without  a  force  sufficient  to  make 
a  show  of  defense.  The  importance  of  these  affairs  was  greatly  exagger 
ated  by  popular  report;  they  were  magnified  to  the  dimensions  of  decisive 
victories.  Communities  which  had  before  looked  upon  the  struggle  as 
hopeless,  came  to  have  new  confidence  in  the  result  and  in  their  com 
mander.  The  chief  difficulties  in  the  way  of  organization  were  of  two-fold 
origin ;  the  first  came  from  the  terrible  suffering,  want,  sickness,  and  casual 
ties  of  the  Continental  army;  reports  of  these  were  not  slow  to  travel,  and 
a  widespread  fear  and  disinclination  for  the  service  was  the  result;  the 
second  trouble  arose  from  the  lack  of  a  competent  central  authority  to  take 
control  of  recruiting.  Congress  was  the  creature  of  the  colonies  and  could 
only  appeal  to  each  to  do  its  share.  The  British  had  a  fleet ;  the  Americans 
none.  The  former  might  at  any  hour  embark  a  force  and  quickly  change 
the  seat  of  war  to  a  distant  and  unprotected  colony.  The  feeling  of  indi 
viduality  had  not  to  any  degree  given  way  to  that  united  spirit  which  has 
made  the  later  republic  a  power.  Each  colony  thought  first  of  its  own 
defense,  and  the  people  complained  loudly  if  this  were  taken  from  them  for 
the  general  good.  The  withdrawal  of  regulars  made  frequent  calls  upon 
militia  inevitable,  and  thus  agriculture  suffered  and  production  decreased,  at 
the  very  time  when  the  resources  of  the  country  were  taxed  for  the  support 
alike  of  friends  and  enemies.  This  statement  must  suffice  to  suggest  the 
seriousness  of  the  problem. 

Congress   was   sanguine    of   effecting  the    happiest  results.      It   passed 


THE    BATTLE    OF    BRANDYWINE,     AND    LOSS    OF    PHILADELPHIA.  1 27 

resolutions  expressing  its  "  earnest  desire  to  make  the  army  under  the 
immediate  command  of  General  Washington  sufficiently  strong,  not  only  to 
curb  and  confine  the  enemy  within  their  present  quarters,  and  to  prevent 
their  drawing  support  of  any  kind  from  the  country,  but,  by  the  Divine 
blessing,  totally  to  subdue  them,  before  they  can  be  reinforced. "  \Vash- 
i  igton  was  not  disposed  to  encourage  such  rosy  hopes.  He  answered  the 
letter,  enclosed  in  which  were  the  resolutions,  with  one  in  which  he  wrote : 
' '  Could  I  accomplish  the  important  object  so  eagerly  wished  by  Congress, 
confining  the  enemy  within  their  present  quarters,  preventing  them  from 
getting  supplies  from  the  country,  and  totally  subduing  them  before  they 
are  reinforced,  I  should  be  happy  indeed.  But  what  prospect  or  hope  can 
there  be  of  my  effecting  so  desirable  a  work  at  this  time.  The  enclosed 
return,  to  which  I  solicit  the  most  serious  attention  of  Congress,  compre 
hends  the  whole  force  I  have  in  Jersey.  It  is  but  a  handful,  and  bears  no 
proportion  on  the  scale  of  numbers  to  that  of  the  enemy.  Added  to  this 
the  major  part  is  made  up  of  militia.  The  most  sanguine  in  speculation 
can  not  deem  it  more  than  adequate  to  the  least  valuable  purposes  of 
war."* 

General  Washington  was  quite  convinced  that  nothing  could  be  done 
during  the  winter,  with  any  existing  force,  or  any  that  could  be  raised,  hence 
he  turned  his  thoughts  and  efforts  to  preparing  for  the  spring  campaign.  His 
utmost  exertions  were  put  forward,  yet,  when  May  came,  his  army  num 
bered  only  eight  thousand  three  hundred  and  seventy-eight  men,  exclusive 
of  cavalry  and  artillery  ;  of  these  more  than  two  thousand  were  sick  and  his 
effective  rank  and  file  was  composed  of  but  five  thousand  seven  hundred 
and  thirty-eight  men. 

This  was  a  force  miserably  insufficient  for  a  defensive  war;  aggressive 
measures  were  quite  out  of  the  question.  To  add  to  the  embarrassment  of 
his  situation,  Washington  was  in  profound  ignorance  as  to  the  destination 
and  plans  of  the  enemy.  He  felt  confident,  however,  that  one  of  two  plans 
was  contemplated ;  either  that  Burgoyne  should  make  an  effort  to  capture 
Ticonderoga,  gain  command  of  the  northern  lakes,  and  push  his  way  to  the 
Hudson,  \vhere  Howe  should  join  him,  or  that  the  former  deserting  the 

*In  a  letter  written  to  Governor  Trumbull,  on  the  6th  of  March,  1777,  begging  for  aid  from 
Connecticut,  Washington  wrote:  "I  am  persuaded  from  the  readiness  with  which  you  have  always 
complied  with  all  my  demands,  that  you  will  exert  yourself  in  forwarding  the  aforementioned  number  of 
men  upon  my  bare  request  ;  but  hope  you  will  be  convinced  of  the  necessity  of  the  demand  when  I  tell 
you,  in  confidence,  that,  after  the  i5th  of  this  month,  when  the  time  of  General  Lincoln's  militia  expires, 
I  shall  be  left  with  the  remains  of  five  Virginia  regiments,  not  amounting  to  more  than  as  many  hundred 
men,  and  parts  of  two  or  three  other  colonial  battalions,  all  very  weak.  The  remainder  of  the  army  will  be 
composed  of  small  parties  of  militia  from  this  State  and  Pennsylvania,  upon  whom  little  dependence  can 
l>e  put,  as  they  come  and  go  when  they  please.  .  .  .  The  enemy  must  be  ignorant  of  our 
numbers  and  situation,  or  they  would  never  suffer  us  to  remain  unmolested  ;  and  I  almost  tax  myself  with 
imprudence  in  committing  the  secret  to  paper;  not  that  I  distrust  you,  of  whose  invaluable  attachment 

I  have  had  so  many  proofs,  but  for  fear  the  letter  should,  by  any  accident,  fall  into  other  hands  than  those 

for  which  it  is  intended." 


128  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

campaign  in  the  north,  should  sail  by  sea  to  New  York,  and  unite  with  Howe 
in  a  movement  against  Philadelphia.  Washington's  task  was  one  to  discour 
age  any  man.  He  could  move  only  by  weary  marches;  the  British  had 
but  to  call  into  use  the  great  fleet  which  co-operated  with  them,  and,  here 
to-day,  they  might  be  gone  to-morrow,  making  a  descent  at  such  point  as 
best  pleased  them,  their  intentions  being  quite  unknown  until  their  white 
sails  appeared  in  the  offing.  Against  him  he  had  arrayed  two  powerful 
armies,  and  to  oppose  them  only  a  few  thousands  of  undisciplined  Continen 
tals,  with  whom  he  must  defend  the  three  all-important  positions — Ticon- 
deroga,  the  Highlands,  and  Philadelphia,  never  knowing  on  what  day  the 
British  might  mass  their  forces  to  strike  a  decisive  blow  at  one  branch  of  his 
scattered  army.  He  did  not,  however,  for  a  moment  despair,  but,  in  the 
month  of  May,  when  general  military  movements  became  practicable,  he  so 
bestowed  his  forces  as  to  render  co-operation  at  least  possible,  and  to  rea^ 
sonably  protect  each  of  these  positions.  The  troops  from  New  York  and 
New  England  were  divided  between  the  posts  at  Peekskill  and  Ticonderoga  ; 
those  from  New  Jersey,  Pennsylvania,  and  the  colonies  to  the  southward,  as 
far  as  and  including  North  Carolina,  were  attached  to  what  may  be  called 
the  army  of  the  Delaware,  under  his  own  immediate  command,  and  the 
men  from  the  extreme  south  were  left  for  the  defense  of  Virginia  and  the 
more  southerly  coast  colonies. 

Washington's  army  broke  camp  at  Morristown  on  the  28th  day  of  May, 
and  took  a  very  strong  position  in  the  heights  at  Middlebrook,  about  ten 
miles  from  Brunswick.  This  camp  was  fortified,  and,  its  occupation  com 
manded  not  only  a  strong  and  defensible  position,  but  one  which  gave  an 
extended  view  of  the  country  in  every  direction.  In  addition  the  com 
mander  directed  the  assembling,  on  the  west  bank  of  the  river,  of  an  army 
of  militia,  steadied  by  a  few  Continental  soldiers.  To  the  command  of 
this  force  he  advanced  General  Arnold.  He  felt  confidence  that  Howe 
would  hesitate  to  attempt  to  cross  the  Delaware  with  so  considerable  a  body 
of  men  in  his  front  and  a  strongly  posted  army  in  his  rear.  He  had  also 
quite  determined  not  to  take  the  open  field  unless  he  had  a  decided  advan 
tage,  and  he  hoped  that  Howe,  failing  to  draw  him  into  action,  and  not 
daring  to  essay  the  passage  of  the  river,  might  attack  him  in  his  strong 
and  commanding  position. 

On  the  I4th  of  May,  General  Howe,  with  all  of  his  army  save  two  thou 
sand  men  left  as  a  garrison  at  Brunswick,  advanced  in  two  columns.  His 
plan  was  to  accomplish  exactly  what  Washington  had  determined  should  not 
be  done — the  drawing  of  the  Americans  from  their  strong  position.  He 
had  no  doubt  of  his  ability,  meeting  them  on  equal  ground,  to  destroy 
their  army  and  march  unopposed  upon  Philadelphia.  The  means  which 
Washington  had  prepared  to  defeat  this  plan  proved  effectual.  The  main 
army  of  the  Americans  was  drawn  out,  in  order  of  battle,  upon  the  heights 


THE    BATTLE    OF    BRANDVWINE,     AND    LOSS    OF    PHILADELPHIA.  1 2Q 

before  the  works,  and  so  remained  for  a  day  and  a  night,  sleeping  upon 
their  arms.  Howe  did  not  dare  place  himself  between  two  hostile  forces, 
and  soon  began  a  retrograde  march  toward  Amboy,  much  annoyed  on  the 
way,  by  American  skirmishers,  who  hung  upon  and  galled  his  flanks  and 
rear.  To  cover  these  light  parties,  Washington  advanced  his  army  about 
seven  miles,  and  Lord  Stirling's  division  was  pushed  still  farther  toward  the 
British  rear.  In  the  meantime  the  enemy  pushed  on,  crossed  the  Raritan 
by  the  portable  bridge  which  they  had  provided  for  the  passage  of  the 
Delaware,  and  encamped  on  Statcn  island.  Observing  the  advance  of  the 
Americans,  General  Howe  re-crossed  from  the  island  and  made  a  rapid  march 
toward 'Westfield,  hoping  to  bring  on  an  engagement,  and,  perhaps,  to  tuin 
the  American  left  and  gain  their  rear,  thus  cutting  them  off  from  their 
works.  Howe's  army  was  divided  into  two  columns,  one,  under  Cornwallis, 
was  directed  at  the  left  of  the  Americans  ;  the  other,  led  by  Howe  in  per 
son,  was  to  attempt  securing  possession  of  the  camp  at  Middlebrook.  An 
advance  party  of  the  provincials  fell  in  with  the  rear  of  the  British  right  and 
gave  such  timely  notice  of  their  coming,  that  Washington,  hastily  retiring, 
regained  his  position  at  Middlebrook.  Cornwallis  had  a  brisk  skirmish  with 
Lord  Stirling,  and  drove  the  Americans  from  the  ground,  with  the  loss  of  three 
cannon  and  a  few  men.  Stirling  was  pursued  for  a  short  distance,  when,  it 
being  discovered  that  the  heights  were  occupied  and  their  passes  defended, 
the  recall  was  sounded,  the  British  returned  to  Amboy,  and  the  entire 
army  was  once  more  established  upon  Staten  island. 

What  next  ?  Washington  was  left  simply  to  conjecture.  While  this 
condition  of  doubt  remained,  came  news  that  Burgoyne  was  in  great  force 
upon  Lake  Champlain  and  was  threatening  Ticonderoga.  This  fact  gave 
color  to  the  opinion  that  Howe  had  retired,  intending  to  force  the  High 
lands  and  co-operate  with  the  army  of  the  North.  Hence  Washington 
ordered  Sullivan's  division  to  advance  to  Pompton  plains,  on  the  way  to 
Peekskill,  while  he,  with  the  main  body  of  the  army,  moved  to  Morristown, 
that  he  might  be  able  to  reach  Middlebrook,  if  Howe  should  be  merely 
makinii  a  feint,  or  move  on  to  Peekskill,  should  such  a  course  seem  neces- 

£> 

sary.  Later  intelligence  led  to  Sullivan's  advance  quite  to  Peekskill,  while 
the  main  body  moved  on  to  the  Clove,  there  to  await  developments.  This 
disagreeable  state  of  doubt  was  lightened  by  a  pleasant  bit  of  news  from 
the  Kast.  General  Prescott  had  for  some  time  held  the  British  command  in 
Rhode  Island.  With  implicit  confidence  in  his  army  and  cruisers,  and  a 
corresponding  contempt  for  the  "rebels,"  he  established  his  quarters  at 
some  distance  from  the  main  lines  and  on  the  night  of  the  loth  fell  into  the 
hands  of  Lieutenant-colonel  Burton,  of  the  Rhode  Island  militia.  The  case 
bears  a  curious  parallel  to  that  of  Lee,  for  whom  Prescott  was  afterward 
exchanged. 

On  the  i /th  of  July  the   British  fleet  dropped  down  the  bay  and  disap- 


130 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 


peared  to  seaward,  bearing  the  larger  part  of  General  Howe's  army.  Thus 
relieved  from  apprehensions  as  to  the  Hudson,  Washington  distributed  his 
army  in  various  quarters,  within  reacli  of  the  Delaware,  all  ready  to  march 
at  a  moment's  warning.  On  the  3Oth  of  July  the  fleet  appeared  off  the 
capes  of  the  Delaware  and  orders  were  given  to  concentrate  the  colonial  army 
for  the  defense  of  Philadelphia.  These  orders  were  scarcely  issued  when 
lews  came  that  the  fleet  had  put  to  sea.  Again,  on  the  /th  of  August,  the 
:  rmament  appeared  south  of  the  capes  and  once  more  mysteriously  put  to 
sea,  not  to  be  heard  of  until  the  i6th,  when  it  put  into  Chesapeake  bay,  sailed 
up  to  and  entered  Elk  river,  put  up  that  stream  as  far  as  the  water  would 
permit,  and,  on  the  25th  of  August,  landed  an  army  of  eighteen  thousand 
fresh,  cheerful,  and  confident  men,  for  service  against  Philadelphia. 

The  day  before  this  landing,  the  American  army,  strengthened  with 
militia  from  the  neighboring  colonies,  marched  through  Philadelphia  and 
advanced  to  Brandywine,  its  advance,  under  Greene  and  Stephens,  holding  a 
position  upon  White  Clay  creek,  nearer  the  Elk.  A  considerable  body  of 
militia  was  massed  in  such  a  position  related  to  the  landing  place,  as  to 
remain  in  the  rear  of  the  British  army. 

The  entire  numerical  strength  of  Washington  was,  at  the  time,  not  far 
from  fifteen  thousand  men,  but,  as  was  invariably  the  case,  his  sick  were  out 
of  all  proportion  to  the  size  of  his  army,  and  not  more  than  eleven  thousand 
of  his  force,  including  militia,  could  be  counted  as  effective.  The  army 
would  have  been  stronger  by  far,  but  for  the  detachment  of  troops  which 
had  been  made  to  reinforce  Schuyler  in  the  North,  and  which  comprised 
some  of  the  best  of  the  veterans.  The  main  body  was  first  placed 
behind  Red  Clay  creek,  upon  the  road  connecting  Howe's  position 
with  Philadelphia.  On  the  8th  day  of  September  the  British  moved  in 
two  bodies,  the  larger  portion  halting  eight  miles  from  Newark  upon 
the  American  right ;  the  other  made  a  show  of  attacking  in  front,  but  set 
tled  in  position  within  two  miles  of  the  center.  Washington,  fearing  that 
his  right  would  be  turned  and  be  cut  off  from  the  city,  retreated  across  the 
Brandywine  on  the  night  of  the  8th,  and  took  position  at  Chadd's  ford,  the 
army  being  extended  several  miles  above  and  two  miles  below  Chadd's, 
to  cover  fordable  places  in  the  river.  The  time  had  come  when  he 
was  forced  to  meet  Howe  in  a  general  engagement,  or  desert  Philadelphia  to 
its  fate.  He  knew  that  only  a  victory  in  or  near  the  position  he  then  held 
could  save  the  city,  and  he  gravely  doubted  the  ability  of  his  army  to  win, 
yet  he  was  obliged  to  throw  the  die  and  abide  by  the  cast.  On  the  morning 
of  the  nth  the  British  army  moved  in  a  body  upon  the  road  leading  to 
Chadd's  ford.  Skirmishing  soon  began  ;  Maxwell's  body  of  light  infantry, 
which  had  been  stationed  beyond  the  river,  was  driven  across  by  the  British 
with  little  loss.  Not  far  from  1 1  o'clock  in  the  morning  Washington 
received  notice  that  a  large  body  of  British — not  less  than  five  thousand 


THE    BATTLE    OF    BRANDYWINE,     AND    LOSS    OF    PHILADELPHIA.  Iji 

men  with  artillery — had  been  detached  and  was  marching  rapidly  toward 
the  upper  fords  of  the  Brandywine.  This  report  was  followed  by  others  of 
the  most  contradictory  nature ;  it  was  believed  by  some  that  the  movement 
was  a  feint,  and  that  the  detached  troops,  having  decoyed  away  a  portion  of 
the  American  army,  would  return  and  join  Knyphausen,  who  was  formed 
opposite  the  ford.  Some  stated  the  force  to  be  greater,  some  less ;  a  man 
who  left  the  fords  of  the  Brandywine,  after  it  should  have  arrived  there, 
said  that  no  enemy  had  been  seen.  Washington's  first  intention  had  been 
to  detach  Lord  Stirling  to  oppose  in  force  the  crossing  above,  while  he 
crossed  the  ford  and  attacked  Knyphausen,  but  this  he  relinquished,  in  the 
absence  of  definite  information  as  to  the  movements  of  the  enemy.  Finally, 
late  in  the  day,  all  conjecture  was  set  at  rest  by  the  news  that  Cormvallis 
had  crossed  the  river  above  in  great  force,  and  was  rapidly  moving  down 
upon  the  American  position.  Preparations  were  at  once  made  to  meet  and 
resist  the  attack.  The  divisions  of  Sullivan,  Stirling,  and  Stephens  moved 
up  the  river,  and  formed  to  meet  the  column  of  Cormvallis;  Wayne  and 
Maxwell  remained  at  the  ford  to  hold  Knyphausen  in  check,  and  Washing 
ton,  taking  a  position  between  the  two,  held  the  rest  of  the  army  in 
reserve. 

The  Americans,  detached  to  meet  Cornwallis,  were  scarcely  formed 
at  a  point  above  Birmingham  meeting-house,  when  the  British  appeared 
in  order  of  battle,  and  at  about  half  past  four  the  fight  began.  For  some 
time  the  firing  was  kept  up  hotly  on  both  sides  ;  then  the  American  right, 
unable  longer  to  withstand  the  terrible  fire  and  the  pressure  of  superior 
numbers,  broke  and  fell  back,  exposing  the  next  division  to  a  fire 
upon  its  flanks,  which  no  force  could  long  endure.  So  that,  as  well  others 
in  turn  followed,  and  soon  all  were  engaged  in  a  disorder!}-  retreat.  Wash 
ington  sent  Greene  with  two  brigades  hurriedly  forward  to  the  support  of  the 
retreating  army.  He  was,  however,  too  late  to  check,  he  could  only  cover 
the  retreat.  This  he  did  most  gallantly,  again  and  again  repulsing  the  pur 
suing  British,  until  the  advance  of  fresh  men  in  his  front,  coupled  with  the 
approach  of  darkness,  led  Cornwallis  to  give  over  pursuit  and  encapip  for 
the  night.  In  the  meantime  Knyphausen,  only  awaiting  the  opening  of 
the  fight  in  the  other  quarter,  proceeded  to  cross  the  ford,  which  was 
defended  by  a  small  redoubt,  mounting  three  field  pieces  and  a  howitzer. 
After  a  most  brave  and  stubborn  resistance  the  work  was  carried  by  the 
Hessians,  and,  tlie  defeat  of  the  right  becoming  known,  the  left  retired  and 
the  American  army  encamped  at  Chester.  The  Americans  lost  in  this  battle 
three  hundred  killed  and  six  hundred  wounded.  The  British  took  six  hun 
dred  prisoners,  of  whom  nearly  all  are  included  in  the  number  of  the 
wounded.  The  loss  of  the  British  was  still  more  heavy.  The  defeat 
of  the  right  was  due  to  the  giving  way  of  Deborre's  brigade  .  After  the 
close  of  the  campaign  an  inquiry  into  the  conduct  of  its  commander  was 


132  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

ordered  and  he  at  once  resigned.  The  battleground  of  the  day  was  but 
twenty-six  miles  from  Philadelphia,  and  all  day  long  the  inhabitants  of  that 
city  remained  in  the  public  streets  listening  to  the  distant  muttering  of 
artillery.  They  stood  in  separate  crowds,  tories  and  whigs,  wishing  and 
praying  for  opposite  results.  In  the  evening  came  a  courier  announcing 
the  defeat  of  the  Americans,  and  a  panic  seized  the  patriots ;  whole  families 
fled,  the  roads  leading  from  the  city  were  blocked  with  loads  of  household 
goods,  while  many  deserted  all  they  possessed,  only  seeking  safety  for 
themselves.  All  considered  that  Philadelphia  was  lost.  Congress  deter 
mined  to  remove  from  the  city  to  Lancaster,  and  but  awaited  further  news 
before  carrying  this  resolve  into  execution,  in  the  meantime  ordering  the 
Pennsylvania  militia  and  fifteen  hundred  regulars  from  the  Hudson  to  join 
Washington.  They  also  conferred  upon  the  commander  in  chief  for  a 
period  of  sixty  days  very  extraordinary  powers  over  all  territory  within 
ninety  miles  of  headquarters.  These  included  the  right  to  impress  stock 
and  provisions,  to  suspend  officers  for  misbehavior  and  to  fill  vacancies, 
under  that  of  brigadier-general. 

In  this  battle  fought  for  the  first  time  the  young  Marquis  de  Lafayette, 
who  served  as  a  volunteer,  having  a  short  time  before  come  from  France 
and  received  an  honorary  commission  in  the  American  army.  Besides  La 
fayette,  Count  Pulaski,  Captain  Louis  Fleury  and  General  Conway  also 
served  as  volunteers,  with  distinguished  bravery,  all  being  foreign  officers. 
Congress  made  Pulaski  a  brigadier-general  with  command  of  cavalry,  and 
voted  Fleury  a  horse  to  replace  the  one  killed  under  him  in  the  fight.  The 
unlucky  Deborre,  whose  sensitiveness  led  to  his  resignation,  as  stated,  was  a 
Frenchman  and  a  soldier  of  fortune.  To  Lafayette's  pen  we  owe  one  of 
the  most  vivid  and  picturesque  descriptions  of  the  battle  extant.  On  the 
morning  of  the  I2th,  Washington  retreated  through  Derby  and  halted  at 
Germantown,  near  Philadelphia,  where  he  desired  to  give  his  army  a  day's 
rest.  In  spite  of  the  retreat  of  the  Americans,  which  was,  in  fact,  nothing 
less  than  a  total  rout,  General  Howe,  with  the  lack  of  promptness  which 
had  more  than  once  saved  the  Continental  army,  neglected  to  pursue  at 
once  his  manifest  advantage,  passed  the  night  on  the  field  of  battle,  spent 
the  two  days  following  at  Dilworth,  sending  out  detachments  to  seize  several 
neighboring  towns.  Lafayette  says,  apropos  of  this  dilatory  course : 
"Had  the  enemy  marched  directly  to  Derby  the  American  army  would 
have  been  cut  up  and  destroyed  ;  they  lost  a  precious  night,  and  it  is  per 
haps  the  greatest  fault  in  this  war,  in  which  they  have  committed  many." 

Washington  would  not  admit  to  himself  that  the  battle  was  decisive. 
He  sounded  his  soldiers  upon  their  feelings,  and,  finding  that  they  regarded 
the  result  at  Brandywine  as  a  check,  not  a  defeat,  resolved  to  have  one 
more  test  of  skill  with  Howe.  He  placed  a  militia  guard  in  Philadelphia, 
distributed  other  detachments  along  the  Schuylkill,  removed  the  boats,  form- 


THE    BATTLE    OF    BRANDYWINE,     AND    LOSS    OF    PHILADELPHIA.  133 

ing  the  floating  bridge  over  the  river,  to  his  own  side,  then,  on  the  I4th, 
re-crossing  the  river  with  his  main  army,  advanced  along  the  Lancaster 
road,  in  the  hope  of  turning  the  left  flank  of  the  British.  The  enemy  was  pre 
pared  and  had  extended  his  right  with  the  intention  of  outflanking.  The 
forces  approached  each  other  near  the  Warren  tavern,  twenty-three  miles 
from  Philadelphia.  The  skirmish  between  the  advance  lines  had  actually 
commenced  when  began  a  heavy  rain,  which  lasted  twenty-four  hours,  effectu 
ally  suspending  the  fight.  The  Americans  suffered  more  from  this  storm 
than  did  the  British,  being  unprovided  with  shelter  or  suitable  clothing,  and, 
worse  than  all,  the  ill-fitted  locks  of  their  muskets  and  the  poor  construction 
of  their  cartridge  boxes,  admitting  water,  so  that  an  army  already  mostly 
without  bayonets  was,  for  the  time,  nearly  without  firearms  as  well.  Such 
being  the  case,  Washington  felt  that  an  attack  would  be  suicidal ;  hence  he 
began  a  retreat  along  roads  deep  with  mud,  a  powerful  enemy  in  his  rear, 
ruined  arms  and  useless  cartridges  his  only  defense ;  before  him  a  helpless 
city.  It  was  one  of  the  most  mortifying  and  trying  moments  of  his  long 
service.  He  had  intended  to  halt  for  the  remainder  of  the  night  at  Yellow 
SfTrings,  but  an  inspection  at  that  point  showed  that  scarcely  one  musket  ip 
a  hundred,  or  one  cartridge  in  a  box  could  be  discharged.  Hence,  the 
march  was  continued,  and  at  Warwick  Furnace,  on  the  southern  branch  of 
French  creek,  ammunition  and  a  few  muskets  were  obtained.  General  Small- 
wood  was  already  in  the  rear  of  the  British  force,  and  from  French  creek 
General  Wayne  was  directed  to  move  with  his  division,  join  Smallwood  and, 
keeping  his  movements  concealed  as  much  as  possible,  to  engage  the  enemy 
at  every  favorable  opportunity.  While  occupying  this  position  the  British 
received  minute  information  as  to  his  force  and  situation.  A  night  attack 
was  made  upon  his  position  on  the  2Oth  of  September.  He  was  taken  com 
pletely  by  surprise,  but  formed  his  men,  fired  a  few  volleys,  retired  and 
re-formed,  saving  all  of  his  division  but  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  killed, 
wounded,  and  prisoners.  Wayne,  severely  criticised  for  allowing  him 
self  to  be  thus  surprised,  later  demanded  a  court-martial,  which  being  ac 
corded,  he  was  honorably  discharged.  Howe,  with  his  rear  thus  disencum 
bered,  marched  to  French  creek  and  set  himself  down  before  Washington  in 
such  a  manner  that  he  might  turn  the  right  flank  of  the  latter.  Seeing  his 
danger  the  American  general  effected  one  of  his  quick  changes,  and 
encamped  in  a  more  advantageous  position.  Howe  seemed  to  despair  of 
coming  to  blows,  for  he  at  once  gave  up  the  effort  to  engage,  readily 
forced  the  fords  of  the  Schuylkill,  and  moved  toward  Philadelphia, 
resting  for  the  first  night  in  a  strong  position  upon  the  road.  The  com 
mander  was  now  placed  in  a  very  delicate  and  distressing  position.  Public 
opinion  demanded  the  defense  of  Philadelphia  at  all  hazards;  Congress 
echoed  the  desire.  A  battle,  so  light  a  thing  in  the  estimate  of  these  civil 
ians,  seemed  to  Washington  to  mean  almost  certain  disaster.  His  army  had 


134 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 


not  yet  been  joined  by  the  forces  detached  under  Wayne  and  Smallwood. 
His  reinforcements  from  the  Hudson  had  been  detained  by  an  incursion  from 
New  York,  but  were  now  approaching,  while  a  militia  reinforcement  was 
daily  expected  from  New  Jersey.  He  would  soon  be  comparatively  strong. 
Now  he  was  weak, — lamentably  weak — and,  look  at  it  as  he  might,  he  could 
see  nothing  to  justify  him  in  risking  an  open  fight  with  a  superior  force.  A 
council  of  war  was  accordingly  held ;  the  situation  was  carefully  canvassed, 
and  the  unanimous  voice  of  the  officers,  composing  the  council,  was  against 
risking  the  existence  of  an  army  upon  which  everything  depended,  in  what 
must  prove  a  vain  effort  to  succor  even  so  important  a  city  as  Philadelphia. 
The  condition  of  the  army  was  now  indeed  most  distressing.  It  was 
the  old  story.  Winter  was  coming  with  no  provision  to  meet  it.  A  thou 
sand  men  in  the  army  were  absolutely  without  shoes.  Clothing  of  every 
kind  was  scanty  and  ragged.  Food  for  the  winter  was  to  be  found;  hospital 
stores  for  the  sick,  who  at  times  threatened  to  be  in  a  majority.  Lieutenant- 
colonel  Alexander  Hamilton,  one  of  Washington's  aides,  was  sent  to  Phila 
delphia  with  a  message  recommending  that  cloths,  medicines,  and  other 
stores  needed  by  the  army  be  seized,  warrants  given  for  their  value,  and  the 
whole  removed  to  a  place  of  safety,  for  the  double  purpose  of  supplying 
a  great  want  and  of  preventing  them  from  falling  into  the  hands  of  the 
British.  In  spite,  however,  of  all  his  address,  Hamilton  failed  to  obtain  a 
supply  approaching  adequacy,  though  nearly  all  such  supplies  in  the  city, 
whether  in  the  public  stores  or  the  property  of  individuals,  were  carried  away 
so  that  when  the  British  entered  on  the  26th  of  September  they  found, 
like  Mother  Hubbard,  only  a  very  bare  cupboard. 


BATTLE    OF    GERMANTOWN CLOSE    OF    THE    CAMPAIGN.  135 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

BATTLE  OF  GERMANTOWN-CLOSE  OF  THE  CAMPAIGN. 

AFTER  the  loss  of  Philadelphia,  Washington's  first  desire  and  effort 
were  to  make  the  British  tenure  of  that  city  insecure.  He  therefore 
erected  works  on  Mud  island,  near  the  junction  of  the  Schuylkill  and  the  Del 
aware,  which  were  christened  Fort  Mifflin;  another  work — Fort  Mercer — was 
thrown  up  at  Red  Bank,  opposite  Mud  island,  on  the  Jersey  shore,  and, 
between  the  two,  in  the  deep  water  of  the  channel,  was  sunk  a  line  of 
chcvaux  dc  frisc,  which  could  not  be  penetrated  so  long  as  the  American 
defenses  were  held.  Three  miles  below,  another  line  of  obstructions  was 
placed  in  the  river,  defended  by  a  fort  at  Billingsport.  Several  American 
vessels  of  war,  including  two  frigates  and  a  number  of  galleys,  were  dis 
posed  above  Fort  Mifflin,  and  it  was  hoped,  by  the  combined  action  of  all, 
to  prevent  the  co-operation  of  the  British  fleet  with  the  army  at  Philadel 
phia ;  to  render  impossible  the  obtaining  of  supplies  for  the  latter  by  water, 
and  to  so  command  the  upper  river  shores  as  to  prevent  the  collection  of 
supplies  from  New  Jersey.  Such  a  blockade,  if  maintained,  was  certain  to 
compel  the  evacuation  of  Philadelphia.  At  the  very  outset  of  this  endeavor 
the  Americans  were  so  unfortunate  as  to  lose  the  frigate  Delaware,  which 
was  left  aground  by  the  receding  tide  and  captured,  while  cannonading  the* 
unfinished  works  of  the  British  near  Philadelphia.  Lord  Howe  was  not 
slow  in  perceiving  the  necessity  of  opening  the  communication  by  water 
between  the  captured  city  and  the  sea.  To  this  end  he  detached  a  forct, 
into  the  Jerseys,  to  accomplish  the  capture  of  the  American  works  at  Bil 
lingsport,  and  to  co-operate  with  the  fleet  in  the  clearing  of  remaining 
obstacles  to  the  navigation  of  the  Delaware. 

A  close  observation  of  Washington's  tactics  during  the  war,  will  shovv 
how  uniform  was  his  practice  of  striking  offensive  blows,  when  the  enemy 
was  divided  in  his  force;  such  a  policy  was  likely,  even  when  not  crc\\ned 
with  success,  to  compel  the  recall  of  detachments  and  the  abandonment  or 


136  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

secondary  objects,  for  the  preservation  of  the  hostile  army.  In  this  case 
he  no  sooner  learned  of  the  expedition  against  Billingsport,  than  he 
determined  to  attack  Howe  in  his  camp  at  Germantown,  a  straggling 
village,  stretched  from  north  to  south,  along  the  road,  for  a  distance  of 
nearly  two  miles.  Four  roads  approached  Germantown  from  the  north: 
the  Skippack,  the  main  highway,  leading  directly  through  the  village  and  to 
Philadelphia;  on  the  right  the  Ridge  road  joining  the  main  road  below,  and 
in  the  rear  of  the  village,  on  the  left  of  the  Limekiln  road,  which,  making  a 
sudden  turn  at  right  angles,  enters  Germantown  at  the  market  place,  and, 
still  farther  on  the  left,  the  York  road,  entering  the  Skippack  road  beyond 
the  village.  The  British  army  was  encamped  across  the  lower  portion  of 
Germantown, — the  right  wing,  under  Grant,  on  the  east  of  the  road,  the  left 
on  the  west.  The  advance  of  the  army  lay  more  than  two  miles  from  the 
main  body,  on  the  west  of  the  main  road,  a  picket  with  artillery  was  thrown 
still  farther  forward,  and,  nearly  a  mile  in  the  rear  of  the  advance,  was 
stationed  the  Fortieth  regiment  of  infantry. 

Washington  charged  Sullivan  with  the  command  of  his  right.  He  was 
to  be  supported  by  a  force  in  reserve,  under  Stirling,  and  flanked  by  Conway's 
brigade,  and  was  to  move  down  the  Skippack  road,  and  attack  the  British 
left.  At  the  same  time  General  Armstrong  was  to  advance  by  the  Ridge 
road  and  reach  the  enemy's  right  and  rear ;  while  Greene,  in  command  of 
the  left  wing,  was  to  enter  Germantown,  at  the  market-house,  by  the  Lime 
kiln  road,  and  distribute  his  force  upon  Howe's  right,  left  and  rear. 

This  arrangement  was  an  excellent  one,  and  its  execution  was  well 
begun.  The  American  army  moved  from  its  position  upon  the  Skip- 
pack  road  at  7  o'clock  in  the  evening,  and,  marching  nearly  twenty  miles, 
Sullivan's  advance  encountered  and  drove  in  the  British  pickets  at  day 
light  of  the  4th.  In  a  few  moments  the  British  light  infantry  and  the 
Fortieth  regiment,  were  engaged,  and,  in  turn  forced  back.  Lieutenant- 
colonel  Musgrave,  with  five  companies  of  the  Fortieth,  took  refuge  in  the 
stone  house  of  Mr.  Chew,  from  which  neither  the  charges  of  the  Americans 
nor  their  light  field  pieces  could  dislodge  him.  Leaving  a  regiment  to 
watch  the  house,  the  remainer  of  the  American  advance  passed  to  the  left. 
A  half  hour  later  the  left  came  into  the  fight,  attacking  the  right  of  the  Brit 
ish  advance  and  forcing  it  quickly  back  upon  the  main  body.  Woodford's 
brigade,  which  was  upon  the  extreme  right  of  this  wing  of  the  Americans, 
was  checked  by  the  fire  from  Chew's  house,  and  repeated  the  futile  efforts 
to  dislodge  its  occupants.  In  this  operation  some  time  was  lost ;  the 
American  front  was  thus  broken,  the  division  of  Stephens  separated  from 
the  remainder  of  the  wing,  and  the  two  brigades  forming  the  division  lost 
each  other.  The  remainder  of  the  force  pushed  vigorously  on,  entered  the 
town,  broke  a  portion  of  the  British  right,  and  took  a  number  of  prisoners. 
Had  the  entire  American  left  been  in  action  at  once,  and  had  the  other 


BATTLE    OF    GERMANTOVVN CLOSE    OF    THE    CAMPAIGN.  137 

division  done  its  part,  the  British  army  would  assuredly  have  been  cut 
and  at  least  badly  crippled.  The  morning  was  an  unfortunate  one  for  the 
enterprise  ;  a  dense  fog  lay  over  the  ground  and  prevented  the  Americans 
from  seeing  the  position  of  the  British,  and  from  reuniting  the  separated 
divisions  of  their  own  army;  the  militia  assigned  to  duty  in  the  British  rear 
made  as  usual  only  feeble  demonstrations  and  drew  off.  The  ground  of  the 
battle  was  broken  by  houses  and  enclosures ;  the  American  force,  groping  in 
the  fog,  was  still  further  divided  by  these,  and,  at  last,  all  unity  and  concert 
of  movement  was  lost.  Under  cover  of  this  confusion  the  British  recovered, 
and  Knyphausen,  upon  the  left,  attacked  Sullivan,  while  the  enemy's  right 
engaged  Greene's  divided  force  with  great  spirit.  The  latter  could  not  long 
withstand  the  attack,  began  a  retreat,  and  this  retreat  became  most  confused 
when,  having  fallen  back  upon  Stephens'  front,  the  Americans  were  for 
a  time  taken  for  enemies.  About  the  same  time  the  right,  under  Sullivan, 
began  a  retreat,  having  exhausted  its  ammunition.  Washington,  seeing  that 
success  was  hopeless,  turned  his  attention  to  securing  the  withdrawal  of  his 
army,  which  he  did  without  loss,  covering  it  by  Stephens'  division,  which  had 
scarcely  fired  a  shot.  The  army  retreated  twenty  miles  to  Perkiomen  creek, 
where  it  was  reinforced  by  one  thousand  five  hundred  militia  and  a  regiment 
of  regulars  from  Virginia.  It  then  advanced  and  once  more  took  its  old 
position  upon  the  Skippack  road.  The  Continental  loss  was,  approxi 
mately,  two  hundred  killed,  six  hundred  wounded,  and  four  hundred  cap 
tured.  The  British  lost  one  hundred  killed,  and  four  hundred  wounded. 
In  spite  of  the  failure  of  the  movement,  Congress  expressed  its  approval  of 
the  plan  and  of  the  spirit  with  which  it  was  sought  to  be  executed.  Gen 
eral  Stephens,  whose  stupidity  did  more  to  lose  the  day  than  any  other  single 
cause,  was  court-martialed  for  misconduct  and  intoxication,  and  was  dis 
missed  from  the  service  in  disgrace, — a  punishment  which  his  offense  richly 
merited. 

The  days  immediately  following  the  affair  at  Germantown  were  occu 
pied  by  the  Americans  in  devising  means  for  cutting  off  Howe's  supplies 
from  Pennsylvania  and  New  Jersey.  Parties  were  sent  out  to  harass  and 
capture  foragers,  and  Congress  made  the  selling  of  certain  specified  articles 
to  the  British  an  offense  against  martial  law,  punishable  by  death.  Howe, 
on  his  part,  was  looking  to  the  reduction  of  Fort  Mifflin.  He  erected 
works  at  the  mouth  of  the  Schuylkill,  commanding  the  ferry ;  these  were 
silenced  by  fire  from  the  American  war  vessels  in  the  river.  During  the 
following  night  a  British  force  occupied  Province  island,  within  short  range 
of  the  barracks  at  Fort  Mercer,  and  constructed  a  work  from  which  they 
began  to  cannonade  the  fort.  Soon  after  daybreak  an  American  detach 
ment  embarked,  took  this  work,  and  captured  the  garrison.  While  they 
were  removing  the  prisoners,  a  targe  body  of  British  appeared,  and  re-occu 
pying  the  island,  strengthened  its  defenses,  and  so  disposed  them  as  to 


138  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

enfilade  the  American  works.  An  effort  was  made,  without  effect,  to  dis 
lodge  this  force,  as  well.  The  Americans  then  constructed  a  defense 
against  their  fire,  and  awaited  developments.  In  the  meantime  Lord  Howe, 
with  the  British  fleet,  had  gained  the  mouth  of  the  Delaware  on  the  4th  and 
6th  of  October,  and  was  endeavoring,  thus  far  without  success,  to  force  a 
way  through  the  obstructions  in  the  river,  below  Fort  Mifflin.  Though  the 
fort  at  Billingsport  was  in  the  hands  of  the  British,  the  little  American 
armament  in  the  river  had  proved  so  annoying  as  greatly  to  retard  opera- 
tions.  The  British  kept  up  a  heavy  cannonade  upon  Mifflin,  from  works  on 
the  Pennsylvania  side  of  the  river,  but  did  no  great  amount  of  damage. 
The  chevaux  de  frise  at  Billingsport  being  at  last  broken,  so  far  as  to  per 
mit,  with  the  exercise  of  great  care,  the  passage  of  a  vessel,  Howe  deter 
mined  that  Fort  Mifflin  must  be  reduced  at  all  hazards,  so  that  the  second 
line  of  obstructions  might  be  removed. 

On  the  evening  of  October  22d,  a  body  of  twelve  hundred  Hessians, 
under  Count  Donop,  detached  from  Philadelphia,  attacked  the  fort  at  Red 
Bank  with  great  spirit.  It  was  defended  with  equal  bravery.  Almost  at 
the  outset  Donop  received  a  mortal  wound,  as  did  his  second  in  command. 
The  garrison  was  reinforced  from  Fort  Mifflin,  when  Lieutenant-colonel  Lins- 
ing  withdrew  his  force  and  retired  to  Philadelphia.  The  Hessian  loss  was 
placed  at  four  hundred  killed  and  wounded.  Vessels  from  the  fleet  had 
been  ordered  to  co-operate  with  Count  Donop,  and  five  ships,  the  Augusta 
being  the  largest,  passed  the  gap  at  Billingsport  and  came  up  with  the  flood- 
tide.  Some  distance  below  Mifflin,  ft\z  Augusta  and  the  Merlin  ran  aground. 
The  rest  came  within  range  of  the  fort  and  began  a  brisk  cannonade,  which 
was  maintained  all  night,  in  the  hope  of  getting  off  the  two  vessels.  This 
proving  impracticable,  both  were  burned  in  the  morning,  the  Augusta  blow 
ing  up  before  all  of  her  crew  could  escape. 

Washington  was  very  anxious  to  strike  a  successful  blow  at  Howe 
before  a  connection  with  the  fleet  could  be  effected,  and  since  the  battle 
of  Germantown  had  been  watching  an  opportunity  so  to  do.  Taught 
by  experience,  however,  Howe  was  very  wary  and  the  Americans  had  been 
obliged  to  remain  inactive.  Washington  had  little  confidence  in  his  ability 
to  hold  Fort  Mifflin  if  it  were  regularly  attacked ;  he'  had  less  in  the  issue 
of  a  battle  undertaken  with  General  Howe,  in  the  existing  condition  of  his 
army.  News  had  come  of  the  surrender  of  Burgoyne  at  Saratoga,  and  he 
felt  that,  could  he  but  gain  time  until  the  Northern  army,  then  under  Gates, 
should  join  him,  he  would  be  in  a  position  to  take  the  offensive,  while  an 
attack  made  before  the  arrival  of  such  reinforcements  might  place  him 
beyond  their  help.  Hence,  he  dispatched  Colonel  Hamilton  to  urge  upon 
Gates  the  sending  of  the  bulk  of  his  force  to  the  relief  of  the  army  in 
Pennsylvania.  Hamilton  found  a  portion  of  Gates'  force  with  Putnam  at 
Peekskill.  He  made  representations  which  he  supposed  would  ensure  its 


r.KNKKAI.    lU'Kr.OYNK. 


BATTLE    OF    GERMANTOWN CLOSE    OF    THE    CAMPAIGN.  139 

speedy  advance  to  the  relief  of  Washington,  then  hastened  to  Albany, 
where  Gates  was  holding  the  main  body  with  a  view  to  an  expedition 
against  Fort  Ticonderoga  in  the  spring.  Washington's  orders  to  Gates 
were,  unfortunately,  not  peremptory,  and  that  officer  demurred  to  sparing 
any  men,  urging  that  he  needed  them  to  guard  the  arms  and  stores 
captured  with  Burgoyne,  and  removed  to  Albany.  At  last  Hamilton  suc 
ceeded  in  procuring  the  detachment  of  three  brigades  to  proceed  to  the 
Delaware.  He  then  returned  to  Peekskill  and  was  much  mortified  to  find  that 
the  troops  from  that  point  had  not  yet  moved.  The  reasons  for  this  tardi 
ness  were  that  the  pay  of  the  men  was  in  arrears,  and  that  they  deemed 
their  service  ended  with  the  campaign.  Hamilton,  always  quick  in  expedi 
ent,  borrowed  enough  money  with  the  aid  of  Clinton,  the  Governor  of  New 
York,  to  pay  the  men,  and  hurried  them  on  to  the  army. 

Before  the  coming  of  any  of  these  reinforcements,  Howe  had  regained 
the  control  of  the  Delaware,  by  what  would  have  been  the  cheapest  and  the 
surest  means  in  the  first  instance.  He  strengthened  the  works  on  Province 
island,  mounted  them  with  twenty-four  and  thirty-six  pounders  and  eight-inch 
howitzers,  and,  on  the  morning  of  the  loth  of  November,  opened  a  terrible 
fire  upon  Fort  Mifflin,  at  a  range  of  about  five  hundred  yards,  which  was 
maintained  for  several  days.  The  garrison  had  been  instructed  to  hold  the 
fort  at  all  hazards,  and  nobly  did  they  comply  with  instructions.  Their  bar 
racks  were  battered  to  pieces;  the  works  terribly  injured;  the  guns  dis 
mounted, — still  they  remained  at  their  posts,  working  all  night  to  repair  the 
damage  of  the  day,  and  hurrying  to  their  places  at  daybreak  to  keep  up  the 
answering  cannonade.  Only  a  few  hours'  sleep  was  allowed  each  man,  and 
that  on  the  cold  and  muddy  ground.  From  time  to  time,  relief  was  sent 
from  Varnum's  brigade,  which  lay  for  that  purpose  on  the  Jersey  shore  of 
the  river.  Finding  the  defense  so  unexpectedly  stubborn,  the  British  fleet 
was  called  upon  for  co-operation ;  several  war  vessels  moved  up  before  the 
fort  and  added  their  fire  to  that  of  the  works  upon  Province  island.  Still 
the  garrison  held  the  works  and  answered  as  best  it  was  able,  though  the 
fire  from  the  vessels  as  it  enfiladed  the  works  was  more  destructive  than  any 
they  had  yet  met.  At  last  the  Vigilant  ship  of  war  succeeded  in  securing 
a  position  between  Mud  and  Province  islands,  and  at  a  range  of  nov 
more  than  one  hundred  yards  from  the  works,  opened  a  terrible  cannon 
ade,  also  throwing  hand  grenades  and  keeping  up  a  fire  from  mus 
keteers  in  the  rigging,  which  was  fatal  to  every  man  of  the  garrison 
who  showed  himself.  From  that  time  it  became  evident  that  an  attempv 
to  hold  the  works  would  be  nothing  better  than  the  murder  of  its 
defenders.  Consequently,  at  about  11  o'clock  on  the  night  of  the  I7th  o/ 
November  the  garrison  was  withdrawn.  After  this  result,  it  was  at  first 
determined  to  defend  Fort  Mercer,  but  that  plan  was  relinquished,  and  Lord 
Cornwallis  appearing  with  a  large  force,  for  its  reduction,  it  was,  a  few 


I4O  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

later,  evacuated,  and  the  Howe's,  general  and  admiral,  at  last,  and  after  six 
weeks'  constant  struggle,  attended  with  great  loss  and  expense,  were  masters 
of  water  communication  from  Philadelphia  to  the  sea. 

The  remainder  of  the  campaign  may  be  dismissed  in  a  few  words.  Its 
principal  feature  was  the  demonstration  of  General  Howe  against  the  Ameri 
can  position  upon  the  heights  at  Whitemarsh.  It  began  with  an  effort  at  a 
surprise  made  on  the  night  of  December  4th.  General  Howe  then  marched 
quietly  out  of  Philadelphia  at  the  head  of  his  entire  force,  and  moved  toward 
the  American  lines.  Washington  was,  however,  amply  forewarned,  and 
Howe  was  so  effectively  assailed  in  his  front  by  small  skirmishing  parties, 
that  he  was  obliged  to  change  his  line  of  march,  and  finally  found  himself 
at  daylight,  on  Chestnut  hill,  three  miles  in  front  of  the  American  right. 
The  American  position  was  upon  a  range  of  hills  parallel  with  those  thus 
occupied,  and  farther  northward,  to  the  right  of  the  ground  then  held  by 
the  British,  the  two  heights  approached  each  other  much  more  closely. 
During  the  7th  and  8th  Howe  moved  along  the  height,  thus  coming  much 
nearer  the  American  front.  On  the  second  day  Washington,  believing  a  gen 
eral  active  movement  imminent,  detached  Morgan's  rifles  and  a  body  of  Mary 
land  militia  to  attack  the  advance  of  the  British.  A  sharp  action  followed,  in 
which  the  British  were  driven  in,  and  Washington,  not  desiring  to  fight 
Howe  on  the  ground  where  he  lay,  did  not  reinforce  his  skirmishers,  and 
withdrew  them  with  small  loss.  During  the  /th  and  8th  the  British 
continued  to  manoeuvre  toward  the  left  of  the  Americans,  and  Wash 
ington  changed  his  position  accordingly.  On  the  afternoon  of  the  lat 
ter  day  Howe  confounded  the  Americans  by  filing  off  and  marching  to 
Philadelphia,  thus  closing  active  operations  for  the  season.  His  loss  was 
not  far  from  one  hundred  killed  and  wounded,  while  that  of  the  Americans 
was  much  less.  This  was  the  first  occasion  when  the  two  armies  had  faced 
each  other  upon  the  open  field,  with  anything  like  numerical  equality.  The 
arrival  of  the  reinforcements  from  the  north  had  raised  Washington's  force 
to  exactly  twelve  thousand  one  hundred  and  sixty-one  Continental  troops, 
and  three  thousand  two  hundred  and  forty-one  militia,  while  that  of  Howe 
was  not  far  from  fourteen  thousand  regulars. 

Washington  has  been  criticized  for  not  having  precipitated  a  battle  upon 
this  occasion.  That  he  was  quite  right  in  not  doing  so  now  seems  evident. 
The  same  considerations  which  induced  Howe  to  forego  the  attack,  were 
sufficient  to  more  than  justify  him,  whose  force,  though  numerically 
stronger,  was  infinitely  less  effective  than  that  of  the  enemy.  Whoever  took 
the  initiative,  as  between  two  armies  thus  placed  upon  opposite  heights,  must 
have  been  at  a  nearly  fatal  disadvantage.  Howe  recognized  this  fact  as 
clearly  as  did  Washington.  Neither  commander  deemed  it  safe  to  make  an 
attack,  hence  the  battle  was  not  fought. 

The  cold  was  now  so  intense,  and  the  suffering  so  terrible,  that  Wash- 


BATTLE    OF    GERMANTOWN — CLOSE    OF    THE    CAMPAIGN.  14! 

ington  resolved  to  place  his  men  in  winter  quarters.  A  strong  position  was 
chosen  at  Valley  Forge,  on  the  west  side  of  the  Schuylkill,  about  twenty- 
five  miles  from  Philadelphia,  and  the  army  crossed  the  river,  and  took  pos 
session  on  the  1 2th  day  of  December.  The  cold  became  more  and  more 
severe  ;  the  sufferings  of  the  army  increased  in  proportion.  The  work  of 
building  the  rude  log  huts  which  were  to  be  their  shelter  for  the  winter 
engrossed  all  hands  however,  and  in  a  few  days  the  soldiers  were  under 
cover,  and  as  comfortable  as  men  could  be,  who  were  poorly  clad  for  endur 
ing  even  a  summer  rain.  Washington  gave  direction  for  the  maintenance  of  a 
routine  and  discipline,  exact  as  would  have  been  required  in  camp,  during 
active  service.  The  enemy  was  too  near  to  render  safe  the  slightest  laxity. 
He  also  commended  the  men  for  their  bravery  and  faithfulness,  exhorted 
them  to  continued  courage,  and  did  everything  in  his  power  to  nerve  them 
to  the  endurance  of  a  winter  which  he  knew  could  not  but  be  full  of  hard 
ship  and  suffering. 

This  long  campaign,  extending  from  May  until  December  of  the  year 
1777,  was  made  the  basis  of  much  adverse  criticism  of  Washington,  and  was 
turned  to  account  by  jealous  enemies  who  desired  to  supplant  him  in  his 
command.  Posterity  has  done  justice,  however,  by  uniting  in  the  verdict 
that  not  the  most  brilliant  achievement  of  the  war  was  more  worthy  of  a 
great  general,  than  was  the  conduct  of  the  American  armies  from  White  Plains 
to  Valley  Forge.  With  a  vastly  inferior  force, — a  force  which  his  enemies 
sneered  at  as  a  rabble  and  an  army  of  beggars — he  held  Lord  Howe's  splendid 
army  for  months  in  an  advance  of  less  than  one  hundred  miles.  He  made 
every  step  a  costly  one  for  the  British  ;  he  lost  battles,  when  ruin  seemed  to 
be  the  price  of  defeat,  only  to  regain  his  feet,  reform  and  present  himself 
anew  in  the  face  of  his  enemy.  With  little  and  inadequate  artillery,  he  held 
divorced  the  British  fleet  and  army  for  weeks,  in  spite  of  the  best  efforts  of 
both  to  the  contrary,  and  finally,  though  Philadelphia  fell  into  the  hands  of 
the  enemy,  he  was  left  with  an  army  better  than  that  with  which  he  began. 
A  small  or  reckless  man  may  by  chance  win  a  battle;  it  requires  a  great  one 
to  plan  and  execute  a  campaign  calling-  for  such  patience,  care  and  fore 
sight  as  did  that  of  1777. 


142  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE     BURGOYNE     CAMPAIGN. 

EFORE  following  further  the  immediate  fortunes  of  Washington,  a 
short  review  of  movements  in  the  North  will  be  given,  as  necessary  to 
a  just  understanding  of  subsequent  events.  The  final  retirement  of  the  Amer 
ican  army  from  offensive  operations  in  Canada,  had  left  Ticonderoga  upon 
Lake  Champlain  and  Fort  George  upon  the  lake  of  the  same  name,  the  north 
ern  outposts  of  the  colonial  power.  The  question  of  precedence  between 
Gates  and  Schuyler  had  been  for  the  time  accommodated,  Schuyler,  in  com 
mand  of  the  Northern  department,  holding  the  headquarters  fixed  for  him  by 
Congress,  at  Albany ;  while  Gates,  as  second  in  command,  was  stationed  at 
Ticonderoga.  That  an  invasion  from  Canada  was  more  than  likely,  no  one 
doubted,  yet  for  many  months  the  position  on  the  lakes  was  rather  one  of 
expectancy  than  of  immediate  apprehension.  During  the  continuation  of 
this  state  of  affairs,  Schuyler,  though  an  able  and  singularly  patriotic  com 
mander  and  a  kindhearted  and  unselfish  man,  was  far  from  popular,  especially 
with  the  people  of  New  England,  and  was  made  the  victim  of  much  unjust 
and  very  vexatious  criticism  and  misrepresentation.  It  was  sought  to  lay  at 
his  door  all  the  misfortunes,  reverses,  and  the  final  failure  of  the  American 
arms  in  Canada,  to  which  so  great  a  variety  of  unavoidable  circumstances 
contributed  At  last,  goaded  out  of  all  patience,  he  forwarded  his  resigna 
tion  to  Congress,  This  Congress  refused  to  accept,  at  the  same  time 
passing  a  vote  of  confidence  in  his  ability  and 'loyalty,  and  expressing  high 
appreciation  of  his  services.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the  assaults  made  upon 
Schuyler,  from  time  to  time,  originated  in  the  ambition  and  jealousy  of 
Gates,  who  would  hesitate  at  no  treachery  or  meanness  to  remove  an  obsta 
cle  from  his  path,  and  that  this  first  failure  was  a  most  bitter  disappoint 
ment  to  him.  Schuyler  had  evidently  no  suspicion  of  the  duplicity  of  his 
subordinate ;  his  letters  to  Gates  show  confidence  and  some  of  them  are 
almost  affectionate.  The  resolutions  referred  to,  restored  matters  for  a  time 


THE  BURGOYNE  CAMPAIGN.  143 

to  the  status  quo;  Gates  remained  at  Ticonderoga,  Schuyler  returned  to 
Albany.  It  was  not  long,  however,  before  the  sensitive  honor  of  the  latter 
was  again  offended.  A  packet  of  letters  captured  by  the  British  and  recap* 
turcd,  was  found  to  contain  one  from  Colonel  Joseph  Trumbull,  commissary- 
general,  in  which  it  was  insinuated  that  Schuyler  had  withheld  a  commission 
sent  to  the  brother  of  the  writer,  Colonel  John  Trumbull,  to  be  deputy 
adjutant-general.  Schuyler,  who  was  fiery  upon  any  point  touching  his 
-:onor,  at  once  wrote  to  Congress,  demanding  an  instant  investigation 
of  the  matter,  also  indignantly  denying  any  connection  with  it.  Con 
gress  did  not  at  once  comply  with  his  demand,  and,  at  the  same  time  when 
it  was  received,  discharged  from  the  service  of  the  Government  an  army 
surgeon  whom  Schuyler  had  especially  recommended.  The  effect  of  this 
neglect  and,  as  Schuyler  regarded  it,  the  deliberate  slight  offered  him  in  the 
person  of  his  protege,  was  to  bring  the  anger  of  the  general  to  the  boiling 
point.  While  in  this  state  of  mind,  he  wrote  a  communication  to  Congress, 
which  was  none  of  the  mildest,  reiterating  his  demand  for  an  inquiry,  and 
asserting  that  Congress  should  have  advised  him  of  the  reason  for  the  sur 
geon's  dismissal.  Many  members  of  Congress  took  great  umbrage  at  this 
letter;  the  opportunity  was  improved  by  the  partisans  of  Gates,  who,  find 
ing  support  from  many  New  England  delegates,  acting  from  more  honest 
motives,  secured  the  adoption  of  a  resolution  censuring  Schuyler  for 
disrespect.  Gates  was  at  the  time  in  the  shadow  of  the  capitol,  having 
obtained  leave,  for  the  purpose  of  prosecuting  his  personal  schemes  with 
Congress.  Almost  immediately  after  the  vote  of  censure,  it  was  deter 
mined  to  appoint  a  general  officer  for  the  northern  department,  a  step  which 
Schuyler  had  recommended.  In  accordance  with  this  resolve,  President 
Hancock  notified  Gates  to  at  once  "  proceed  to  Ticonderoga  and  take  com 
mand  of  the  army  stationed  in  that  department."  This  language  was  cer 
tainly  ill-considered.  Upon  receiving  a  copy  of  the  resolutions  of  censure, 
and  learning  of  this  order  to  Gates,  Schuyler  considered  himself  superseded ; 
while  Gates  proceeded  to  his  post,  filled  with  exultation  at  having  finally 
attained  his  desired  independence  of  command.  Vet  Congress  had  no  idea, 
in  providing  for  the  appointment  of  a  general  officer  for  the  department,  that 
he  should  displace,  or  be  the  equal  in  command  of  Schuyler,  who  was  then  at 
its  head.  Gates  received  his  order  on  the  25th  of  March,  and  immediately 
set  out  as  desired;  on  the  road  he  passed  Schuyler,  who  was  bent  upon 
going  before  Congress  to  obtain  the  justice  of  an  inquiry,  which  should 
permit  him,  as  he  ardently  desired,  to  lay  down  his  command  with  honor 
to  himself.  It  was  after  reaching  Philadelphia  that  he  learned  of  the  censure, 
and  of  Gates'  appointment.  Being  accredited  to  Congress  as  a  delegate 
from  New  York,  he  took  his  seat  as  a  member  of  that  body,  and  on  the 
1 8th,  the  desired  committee  of  inquiry,  consisting  of  one  delegate  from  each 
colony,  was  appointed.  In  the  mean  time,  Lee  being  a  prisoner,  Schuyler 


144  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

was  the  senior  major-general  of  the  army,  and  assumed  command  at  Phila 
delphia,  strengthening  defenses,  hastening  the  recruiting  of  troops,  and 
greatly  aiding  in  the  proper  organization  of  the  commissary  department  of 
the  army.  Early  in  May  the  committee  made  a  report  completely  exoner 
ating  him  from  the  odium  cast  upon  him  by  Trumbull's  insinuations, 
and  also  officially  informing  him  that  Congress  entertained  as  high  an  opin 
ion  of  him  as  it  did  before  the  letter  was  written  which  evoked  his  censure. 
This  rehabilitation  of  Schuyler  provoked  a  long  and  animated  discussion  in 
Congress  as  to  the  status  of  Gates,  a  discussion  which  resulted  in  an  avowal 
that  it  had  not  been  the  intention  of  Congress  to  advance  him  to  the  command 
of  the  northern  department.  Schuyler  returned  to  his  command  at  Albany 
upon  the  3d  day  of  June,  and  Gates,  who  had  not  proceeded  farther  than 
that  city,  obtained  leave  to  return  to  Philadelphia,  while  St.  Clair  took 
command  at  Ticonderoga.  Though  the  action  of  Congress  had  been  simply 
to  define  his  position,  Gates  clung  to  his  own  interpretation  of  the  matter, 
and  persisted  in  regarding  himself  as  degraded  from  command.  He  pro 
ceeded  to  Philadelphia;  obtained  admission  to  the  floor  of  the  House,  by 
representing  that  he  was  the  bearer  of  important  news;  then,  after  some 
trivial  communication  regarding  Indian  affairs,  launched  into  an  almost 
hysterical  tirade  concerning  his  treatment.  The  House  was  at  last  com 
pelled  to  cau^e  his  withdrawal,  and  to  give  him  notice  that  any  future 
communications  in  the  matter  must  be  submitted  in  writing. 

Affairs  were  in  this  condition  when  it  was  announced  that  General 
Burgoyne,  who  had  returned  from  Canada  to  England  during  the  previous 
year,  had  re-crossed  the  Atlantic  and  was  preparing  for  a  movement  in  force, 
through  Lake  Champlain  and  the  Hudson,  to  effect  a  junction  with  the  army 
of  General  Howe.  This  news  reached  Washington  early  in  June,  and 
Schuyler  at  once  proceeded  to  devise  means  for  strengthening  the  garrisons 
and  defenses  at  the  North.  The  main  hope  of  the  Americans  lay  in  defend 
ing  Ticonderoga,  and  in  completing  and  holding  Fort  Independence,  then 
in  course  of  construction  upon  a  lofty  hill,  directly  across  the  lake  from  that 
fort.  The  lake  is  there  very  narrow  and  had  been  spanned  by  a  broad 
bridge  of  boats,  by  a  log  boom  and  a  heavy  chain,  which  were  deemed,  in 
conjunction  with  the  guns  from  either  shore,  quite  sufficient  to  prevent  a 
passage  by  water.  It  may  be  stated  that  these  obstructions,  which  had 
required  nine  months  of  constant  and  costly  labor  to  stretch  across  the  lake, 
were  cut  by  the  British  in  about  four  hours.  The  principal  depot  of  stores 
for  the  army  was  upon  Lake  George  and  the  maintenance  of  communication 
between  the  forts  upon  Lake  Champlain,  and  the  base  of  supplies,  was  of  the 
first  importance. 

Burgoyne  set  out  from  St.  Johns  on  the  i6th  of  June  with  an  army  made 
up  as  follows:  of  the  British  rank  and  file,  three  thousand  seven  hundred 
and  twenty-four ;  three  thousand  and  sixteen  Brunswickers ;  two  hundred 


THE    BURGOYNE    CAMPAIGN.  145 

and  fifty  Canadians;  four  hundred  Indians,  and  four  hundred  and  seventy- 
three  artillerymen,  making  in  all  seven  thousand  eight  hundred  and  sixty- 
three  men.  The  army  was  provided  with  a  magnificent  train  of  brass 
cannon,  and  with  baggage  and  impedimenta  enough  to  have  put  Braddock  to 
the  blush.  From  St.  Johns,  Burgoyne  dispatched  a  detachment  of  seven 
hundred  regulars  and  Canadians,  under  Colonel  St.  Leger,  who  it  was 
intended  should  land  at  Oswego,  on  Lake  Ontario,  effect  a  junction  with  Sir 
John  Johnson  and  his  tory  followers,  obtain  an  Indian  contingent,  and, 
capturing  Fort  Stanwix,  lay  waste  the  valley  of  the  Mohawk,  and  rejoin 
Burgoyne  at  Albany.  The  plan  was  admirably  laid  and  the  possibility  of 
failure  did  not  once  enter  as  an  element  into  Burgoyne's  calculations. 

On  the  3<Dth  Burgoyne,  having  made  a  landing  some  distance  above 
7  'conderoga,  began  a  simultaneous  movement  towards  the  American  works, 
—the  main  body,  under  his  personal  command,  on  the  west  shore  of  the 
lake;  the  Germans,  under  Baron  de  Riedesel  on  the  east,  with  the  fleet — 
frigates,  transports  and  bateaux; abreast  of  his  march.  The  garrisons  were 
looking  for  reinforcements,  but  were  well  provisioned  and  confident  of 
sustaining  a  defense  until  they  should  be  relieved.  Four  miles  north  of  Fort 
Ticonderoga,  Burgoyne  halted,  entrenched  himself  and  sent  out  scouts 
and  reconnoitering  parties  to  observe  the  strength  of  the  fort.  On  the  2d 
of  July  St.  Clair  abandoned  his  outworks,  burned  a  number  of  mills  and 
other  buildings,  and  concentrated  his  force  in  the  fort.  Unfortunately,  he 
failed  to  garrison  an  outpost  about  half  a  mile  in  advance  of  the  extreme 
left  of  his  line,  which  had  been  erected  to  cover  a  weak  point  in  the  old 
French  works.  This  was  taken  possession  by  the  British,  mounted  with 
heavy  guns,  and  thus  the  communication  with  Lake  George  was  effectually 
cut  off.  \Yorse,  however,  remained  behind.  Sugar  hill,  a  ridge  extending 
like  a  backbone,  between  the  two  kikes,  lay  back  of  Fort  Ticonderoga,  pre 
senting  a  precipitous  descent  of  six  hundred  feet  to  the  water  of  Lake  Cham- 
plain.  The  fortification  of  this  point  had  often  been  urged  but  it  was  claimed 
to  be  out  of  range  and  inaccessible  with  artillery.  The  British  disproved 
both  of  these  assertions.  Having  pretty  thoroughly  invested  Ticonderoga 
below,  they  opened  a  brisk  cannonade  from  the  work  which  has  been  men 
tioned,  and,  undetected,  cut  a  road  up  the  mountain,  hauled  their  guns  from 
tree  to  tree,  and  twenty-four  hours  after  the  first  blow  was  struck,  the  garri 
son  below  was  appalled  to  discover  the  height  occupied  by  red-coated  British, 
and  a  work  well  advanced,  from  which  Forts  Ticonderoga  and  Independence 
might  easily  be  laid  in  ruins  about  the  ears  of  their  garrisons,  without  the 
loss  of  a  man  to  the  British.  Recognizing  the  futility  of  a  defense,  St. 
Clair  determined  upon  evacuating  the  fort  for  the  preservation  of  his  army. 
This  resolve  was  made  about  3  o'clock  on  the  afternoon  of  the  5th  of  July. 
At  nightfall  the  sick,  wounded,  non-combatants,  provisions,  and  ammuni 
tion  were  loaded  upon  bateaux  and,  under  cover  of  a  few  gun-boats,  dis- 


146  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

patched  to  Skenesborough  (now  Whitehall),  at  the  head  of  the  lake.  The 
heavy  artillery  was  spiked.  It  was  contemplated  that  the  garrison  of 
Ticonderoga  should  cross  and  cut  the  bridge,  and  being  joined  by  that  of 
Fort  Independence,  take  a  circuitous  route  on  the  east  side  of  the  lake  and 
place  themselves  in  the  stockaded  fort  at  Skenesborough.  All  went  well 
until  about  3  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Then,  St.  Clair  having  crossed 
the  bridge  with  his  main  body,  some  one  at  Fort  Independence  set 
fire  to  a  house  which,  burning  brilliantly,  revealed  to  the  British  the  Ameri 
can  army  in  full  retreat.  An  alarm  was  at  once  raised  and,  before  tht 
American  rearguard,  under  Colonel  Francis,  could  cross,  General  Frasey 
was  in  Fort  Ticonderoga  with  his  pickets.  The  men  comprising  the  Ameri 
can  rear  dispersed  into  the  woods  and  for  the  most  part  made  their  escape. 
In  the  morning  the  English  flag  floated  from  both  forts ;  a  strong  fore*- 
was  in  hot  pursuit  of  St.  Clair,  and  by  9  o'clock  the  fleet  had  cut  thv.- 
boom  and  chain,  and  was  following  the  bateaux  of  the  Americans.  The 
latter  reached  Skenesborough  in  safety,  but  before  the  galleys,  which 
escorted  them,  had  come  up,  they  were  overtaken  by  the  British  gun 
boats,  two  of  them  captured  and  the  three  remaining,  sunk.  Those  who  had: 
landed  at  Skenesborough  set  fire  to  everything  combustible  and  fled  to  Fort 
Anne.  Schuyler  was  at  Fort  Edward,  but  a  few  miles  distant,  with  fifteew 
hundred  men  whom  he  was  leading  to  the  reinforcement  of  Fort  Ticon 
deroga.  A  portion  of  these  he  sent  to  the  relief  of  Colonel  Long,  who 
commanded  the  party  at  Fort  Anne.  A  body  of  British  coming  up,  Long, 
after  a  gallant  fight,  set  fire  to  Fort  Anne,  and,  retreating,  joined  Schuyler 
at  Fort  Edward.  The  main  body  of  the  American  army  forced  its  retreat 
on  the  first  day  to  Castleton,  a  distance  of  thirty  miles.  Early  on  the  fol 
lowing  morning  it  was  overtaken  and  attacked  by  General  Fraser,  with 
about  eight  hundred  and  fifty  men.  The  cowardly  failure  of  two  militia 
regiments  to  support  the  rear  guard  as  ordered,  saved  the  British  advance 
from  destruction  and  prolonged  the  battle,  until  Baron  de  Riedesel  with  the 
main  body  of  the  pursuers  came  up  and  the  Americans  were  put  to  flight 
with  heavy  loss.  More  than  two  hundred  were  killed  outright ;  six  hundred 
men  were  wounded,  and  two  hundred  and  ten  were  made  prisoners.  St. 
Clair  pushed  on  from  the  scene  of  this  battle  to  Rutland,  and  learning  of  the 
fate  of  Skenesborough,  from  thence  made  his  way  to  Fort  Edward  and 
joined  Schuyler.  There,  too,  came  most  of  the  stragglers  of  the  army,  and, 
notwithstanding  its  miserable  plight,  Schuyler  at  once  set  about  its  reor 
ganization,  bringing  stores  and  equipments  from  Lake  George,  and  straining 
every  nerve  to  procure  reinforcements  of  regulars,  and  to  raise  the  militia  of 
the  northern  colonies.  By  such  exertions  he  soon  had  ?,t  least  an  organiza 
tion  with  which  to  oppose  Burgoyne.  One  of  the  few  rnen  in  the  colonial 
army  who  did  not  sincerely  mourn  the  loss  of  Ticonderoga,  was  General 
Gates.  In  the  narrowness  of  his  jealousy  he  saw  in  it  only  a  justification  of 


i.IP    SCIM'YLKR. 


THE  BURGOYXE  CAMPAIGN.  147 

himself  and  an  impeachment  of  the  motives  of  those  who  had  refused  to 
give  him  the  independent  command  of  the  North.  He  and  his  friends  were 
active  everywhere  in  fomenting  dissatisfaction  with  Schuyler,  and  in 
encouraging  the  belief  that  he  had  directed  the  evacuation  of  the  fort.  It 
was  difficult  for  the  people  at  large  to  understand  that  circumstances  could 
arise  which  should  warrant  the  abandonment  without  contest  of  works 
admittedly  so  strong,  and  which  had  cost  so  great  a  sum  to  the  treasury. 
Washington's  letter  to  Schuyler,  on  the  I5th  of  July,  is  characteristically 
forbearing  and  hopeful.  He  says:  "The  evacuation  of  Ticonderoga  and 
Fort  Independence  is  an  event  of  chagrin  and  surprise,  not  apprehended 
nor  within  the  compass  of  my  reasoning.  The  stroke  is  severe  indeed  and 
has  distressed  us  much.  But  notwithstanding  things  at  present  wear  a  dark 
and  gloomy  aspect,  I  hope  a  spirited  opposition  will  check  the  progress  of 
General  Burgoyne's  arms,  and  that  the  confidence  derived  from  success 
will  hurry  him  into  measures  that  will,  in  their  consequences,  be  favorable 
to  us.  We  should  never  despair.  Our  situation  has  before  been  unprom 
ising  and  has  changed  for  the  better.  So,  I  trust  it  will  again.  If  new  diffi 
culties  arise  we  must  only  put  forth  new  exertions,  and  proportion  our 
efforts  to  the  exigency  of  the  times." 

In  a  later  communication  written  to  Schuyler,  Washington  foreshadowed 
the  course  of  events  in  these  words:  "I  trust  General  Burgoyne's  army 
will  meet,  sooner  or  later,  an  effectual  check  ;  and,  as  I  suggested  before, 
that  the  success  he  has  met  will  precipitate  his  ruin.  From  your  accounts 
he  appears  to  be  pursuing  that  line  of  conduct  which,  of  all  others,  is  favor 
able  to  us.  I  mean  acting  in  detachment.  This  conduct  will  certainly  give 
room  for  enterprise  on  our  part  and  expose  his  parties  to  great  hazard. 
Could  we  be  so  happy  as  to  cut  one  of  them  off,  though  it  should  not 
exceed  four,  five,  or  six  hundred  men,  it  would  inspirit  the  people  and  do 
away  with  much  of  our  present  anxiety."  The  opportunity  was  not  long 
lacking  ;  in  the  face  of  the  obstructions  cast  in  the  way  of  his  march,  Bur- 
goyne  reached  the  Hudson,  near  Fort  Fdward,  only  on  the  3<Dth  of  July. 
He  was  most  anxious  to  reach  Albany,  to  make  his  junction  with  St.  Leger, 
who,  as  he  made  no  doubt,  was  already  in  possession  of  Fort  Stanwix.  His 
army  and  great  burthen  of  baggage  called,  however,  for  means  of  transpor 
tation  far  greater  than  he  possessed.  Bateaux  in  which  to  convey  his  bag 
gage  by  water  ;  horses  for  his  guns  and  wagons,  were  indispensably  neces 
sary  before  he  could  move.  While  pondering  this  problem  Skene,  the  tory, 
who  had  accompanied  him  from  Skenesborough,  informed  him  that  large 
numbers  of  horses  and  wagons,  as  well  as  military  stores  of  great  importance, 
were  accumulated  at  the  town  of  Bennington,  guarded  only  by  a  small  and 
varying  body  of  militia.  These,  Skene  represented,  might  be  easily 
taken  and  it  would  thus  be  not  only  possible  to  move  and  sustain  the 
army,  but  to  mount  the  cavalry.  Bur^oyne  was  not  well  inclined  toward 


148  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

the  enterprise,  but  it  offered  great  temptations  and  he  eventually  yielded 
to  Skene's  persuasions  and  detached  for  the  service  Colonel  Baum,  with 
five  hundred  Brunswickers,  a  body  of  American  loyalists  and  an  Indian  con 
tingent.  To  support  Baum  he  threw  his  army  down  the  river,  made  a 
bridge  of  boats,  and  placed  his  advance  in  the  village  of  Saratoga.  Lieuten 
ant-colonel  Brechman,  with  a  strong  body  of  troops,  was  drawn  out  still  far 
ther  to  reinforce  Baum  if  such  an  unlikely  necessity  should  occur.  The 
New  Hampshire  militia  was  divided  into  two  bodies,  one  commanded  by 
the  brave  old  General  Stark,  who  served  at  Bunker  Hill,  the  other  by  Col 
onel  Seth  Warner,  the  former  associate  of  Ethan  Allen.  It  happened  that 
both  Stark  and  Warner  had  reached  Bennington  with  two  thousand  militia, 
which  the  latter  was  to  lead  to  Stillwater  to  join  Schuyler,  and  Baum  came 
just  in  time  to  receive  the  attention  of  the  whole  body.  He  consequently 
entrenched  himself  and  sent  post  haste  for  reinforcements.  Brechman  at 
once  advanced  his  men,  but  the  roads  were  so  bad  that  it  required  thirty- 
two  hours  to  march  the  distance  of  twenty-four  miles  to  Bennington.  In 
the  meantime  Stark  had  made  a  furious  attack  upon  the  works  from  front 
and  rear  and,  although  they  were  bravely  defended,  almost  the  whole  of 
Baum's  force  had  been  either  killed,  wounded  or  made  prisoners.  The  undis 
ciplined  militia  were  carried  away  by  their  success  and  dispersed  over  the 
field  in  search  of  better  equipments  than  their  own.  While  they  \vere  thus 
engaged,  at  4  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  August  i6th,  Brechman  appeared 
and  would  inevitably  have  reversed  the  fortune  of  the  battle  had  not  Warner 
come  up  with  a  fresh  regiment  and  held  him  in  check  while  the  main 
force  of  the  Americans  reformed.  The  fight  was  then  renewed  and  main 
tained  with  great  vigor  on  both  sides  until  darkness  fell,  then  Brechman 
retreated,  leaving  his  artillery,  baggage,  and  many  dead  and  wounded  upon 
the  field.  The  Americans  lost  in  this  battle  one  hundred  killed  and 
wounded.  They  captured  four  brass  field-pieces,  nine  hundred  dragoon 
swords,  a  thousand  stand  of  arms,  four  ammunition  wagons,  a  quantity  oi 
baggage,  and  as  prisoners  thirty-two  officers  and  five  hundred  and  sixty-four 
privates.  The  number  of  the  British  killed  and  wounded  was  very  great,  but 
has  never  been  accurately  determined. 

In  the  meantime,  on  the  loth  of  August,  Schuyler  had  received  a  sum 
mons  from  Congress  to  appear  before  a  court  of  inquiry,  appointed  to  inves 
tigate  the  matter  of  the  loss  of  Ticonderoga ;  Washington  was  at  the  same 
time  asked  to  appoint  an  officer  to  the  command  in  the  North,  but 
requested  to  be  relieved  of  the  duty,  and  Gates  was  named  by  Congress, 
thus  at  last  realizing  his  long  cherished  ambition.  When  Schuyler  received 
his  notification,  he  was  engrossed  in  his  effort  to  reorganize  the  army,  to 
relieve  Fort  Stanwix,  and  to  cripple  Burgoyne  by  cutting  off  his  supplies. 
He  saw  that  for  him  to  at  once  leave  his  post  and  obey  the  summons  to 
Philadelphia,  would  be  to  gravely  imperil  the  fate  of  his  army  and  the  inter 


THE    BURGOYXE    CAMPAIGN. 


149 


ests  of  the  people.  Hence  he  pocketed  his  pride  and  determined  to  remain 
until  actually  relieved,  and,  even  after  that,  to  co-operate  with  Gates,  at  the 
head  of  the  New  York  militia.  Fort  Stanwix  was  invested  by  regulars, 
tories,  and  Indians;  General  Herkimer  had  been  defeated  and  fatally  injured 
in  an  independent  effort  to  relieve  it.  General  Arnold  was  at  Albany,  sore 
at  heart  on  account  of  the  promotion  of  other  officers  over  his  head,  and 
without  a  command.  He  readily  consented  to  lead  a  force  to  the  relief  of 
the  fort, — an  adventurous  and  doubtful  service,  which  well  suited  his  mind 
and  disposition.  He  set  out  with  a  body  of  Continentals,  the  strength  of 
which  he  artfully  caused  to  be  much  exaggerated  to  the  enemy,  and  the  lat 
ter,  becoming  alarmed  at  these  reports  and  the  defection  of  his  Indian  allies, 
fled  with  precipitation  while  Arnold  was  not  yet  within  forty  miles,  leaving 
his  tents  standing  and  his  baggage  on  the  ground.  Such  Indians  as 
remained  with  him,  raised  repeated  false  alarms,  for  the  purpose  of  increasing 
the  panic  and  the  amount  of  their  own  plunder,  and  massacred  such  stragglers 
as  fell  into  their  hands.  A  party  from  the  fort  pursued,  and,  overtaking  the 
rear  guard  of  the  retreating  army,  killed  or  captured  nearly  all  of  them. 

Thus,  in  a  few  weeks,  was  Burgoyne's  exultation  changed  to  something 
very  closely  approaching  despair.  Instead  of  expected  aid  from  St.  Leger 
and  a  body  of  loyalists  which  should  constantly  grow  with  his  triumphant 
progress  clown  the  Mohawk  ;  instead  of  ample  supplies  from  the  rebel  stores 
at  Bennington,  with  another  contingent  of  tories  from  New  England,  he 
received  news  of  hopeless  defeat  in  both  quarters.  His  holiday  march  to 
Albany,  was  changed  into  a  stern  struggle  for  self-preservation.  With  no 
adequate  means  of  transportation  ;  with  a  sad  hick  of  supplies;  with  enemies 
all  about  him,  coming  up  like  mushrooms  in  a  night,  to  cut  off  his  foraging 
parties;  with  discontent  and  desertion  among  his  Indian  and  Canadian 
allies, — with  all  these  he  saw  that  he  must  either  fight  successfully  or  sur 
render,  unless  succor  should  come  from  General  Howe. 

The  effect  of  the  victory  at  Bennington  and  the  failure  of  the  move 
ment  against  Fort  Stanwix,  was  to  inspire  the  greatest  confidence  among 
the  colonists  of  New  York  and  New  England.  Finding  that,  with  all  their 
glitter  and  display,  the  British  troops  were  not  invulnerable,  they  showed  a 
greater  readiness  to  answer  the  call  to  arms  than  ever  before.  Their  harvests 
were  gathered,  and  many  were  hastening  to  places  of  rendezvous,  when 
occurred  an  incident  which  was  all  that  was  needed  to  spur  the  most  timid  to 
resolution  ;  this  was  the  murder  of  Miss  McCrea  by  one  of  Burgoyne's  Indian 
allies.  The  story  is  too  familiar  to  need  re-telling.  Burgoyne  caused  the 
offending  chief  to  be  delivered  up,  and  was  at  first  quite  determined  to  hang 
him,  but  it  was  represented  that  such  an  act  would  inflame  the  Indians,  and 
certainly  result  in  their  secession  in  a  body.  The  general  was  in  a  difficult 
position  ;  with  the  responsibility  of  an  army  on  his  hands,  he  did  not  feel 
justified  in  sustaining  so  great  a  loss,  and  hence,  while  he  condemned  and 


I5O  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

abhorred  the  act,  he  felt  constrained  to  release  the  chief,  only  exacting  a 
pledge  from  the  Indians  that  there  should  be  no  repetition  of  such  offenses. 
Had  the  murderer  been  executed  the  indignation  of  the  people  would  have 
been  in  a  measure  appeased.  As  it  was,  they  very  unjustly  looked  upon 
Burgoyne  as  an  accessory  after  this  fact.  Miss  McCrea  was  a  member  of  a 
tory  family,  and  was  betrothed  to  a  young  man  of  the  same  inclining,  who 
served  with  Burgoyne.  Tories  and  patriots  alike  were  furious  at  her  death, 
and  Burgoyne  lost  doubly  in  making  enemies  of  friends,  Gates  took  com 
mand  the  I  Qth  of  August;  his  army  now  included  all  the  force  of  the  North 
ern  department,  having  been  reinforced  by  Morgan's  rifles  and  other  troop? 
from  the  South,  and  by  large  bodies  of  militia.  On  the  i/th  it  encamped  at 
Stillwater,  and  Burgoyne,  after  a  toilsome  march,  layjbur  miles  distant  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  river.  On  the  1 8th  he  repaired  the  bridge  between 
the  two  armies,  under  cover  of  a  heavy  cannonade,  and,  on  the  i9th,  the  day 
of  Gates'  arrival,  he  moved  across  and  advanced  upon  the  left  of  the  Ameri 
cans.  He  was  met  by  Morgan's  riflemen,  who,  advancing  too  far,  were 
driven  back ;  reinforcements  came  and  the  fight  was  resumed,  the  Ameri 
cans  being  formed  under  cover  of  the  woods.  All  day  the  battle  continued, 
the  colonials  invariably  repulsing  the  British  whenever  the  latter  advanced, 
and,  if  they  pursued,  being  as  often  driven  back  in  return.  Reinforcements 
arrived,  from  time  to  time,  for  each  party,  and,  when  nightfall  came,  more 
than  three  thousand  Americans  were  engaged  with  the  whole  British  right, 
led  by  Burgoyne  in  person.  With  the  coming  of  darkness,  the  former 
retired  to  their  camp,  while  the  British  slept  upon  their  arms.  The  Ameri 
cans  lost  between  three  and  four  hundred  men  during  the  day,  the  British 
upwards  of  five  hundred.  The  advantage  of  the  fight  was  assuredly  with  the 
colonial  army,  which  had  checked  the  British,  while  Burgoyne,  with  a  defi 
nite  object  in  view,  had  failed  of  accomplishing  it.  On  the  following  day 
Burgoyne  took  a  position  within  cannon  shot  of  the  American  lines,  and 
proceeded  to  entrench.  Receiving  a  letter  from  Sir  Henry  Clinton  announc 
ing  that  the  latter  would  attack  Fort  Montgomery  about  the  2Oth  of  Septem 
ber,  he  sent  a  reply,  stating  his  distress  and  imminent  danger,  and  promising 
to  strive  by  every  means  to  hold  his  position  until  the  I2th  of  October,  hop 
ing  for  relief  from  the  south. 

Neither  Gates  nor  Burgoyne  made  any  change  of  position,  or  any 
movement  to  attack,  until  the  7th  of  October.  Burgoyne  was  then  in  des 
perate  straits  for  provisions,  his  army  being  upon  short  allowance ;  he  saw 
no  prospect  of  immediate  relief  from  Howe  and  determined  to  risk  an  action 
rather  than  to  face  starvation  within  his  own  lines.  Hence  he  drew  out  on 
his  right  one  thousand  five  hundred  picked  men,  which  he  led  in  person, 
with  the  assistance  of  Generals  Phillips,  Riedesel,  and  Fraser.  At  the 
same  time  he  sent  a  body  of  Indians  and  rangers  to  make  a  demonstration 
in  the  American  rear,  to  draw  attention  from  the  more  serious  move- 


T II  K    1 J  U  KGO  V  X  E    C  A  M  P  A I  ON .  I  5  I 

merit  in  the  front.  Gates  perceived  these  movements  and  proceeded  to  take 
steps  to  counteract  them.  He  detached,  for  this  purpose,  a  strong  body  of 
men  to  meet  the  advance  of  the  enemy,  and  ordered  Morgan's  redoubtable 
corps  to  make  a  circuit  and  seize  a  very  advantageous  position,  upon  a  hill. 
to  their  right.  The  advance  began  and  Burgoyne  was  met  by  a  furious  resist 
ance  in  his  front  and  an  assault  no  less  furious  upon  his  left.  At  almost 
the  same  moment  a  terribly  destructive  fire  was  opened  by  Morgan,  on  his 
right.  While  the  British  were  fighting  bravely  in  the  face  of  this  combined 
attack  and  opposition,  an  American  division  was  ordered  to  intercept  their 
retreat  to  camp.  Against  this  new  manoeuvre  Burgoyne  provided  by  order 
ing  General  Fraser  to  cover  his  flank.  While  Fraser  was  executing  tl  is 
order,  a  portion  of  the  British  right  gave  way,  and  he  went  to  its  sup 
port  with  his  light  infantry,  which  was  exposed  to  the  deadly  fire  of 
Morgan's  men.  Fraser  himself,  one  of  the  most  valuable  officers  in  the 
army,  was  mortally  wounded.  Burgoyne  then  commenced  a  retreat  and 
succeeded,  with  the  loss  of  his  field-pieces  and  near!}'  all  of  his  artillery 
corps,  in  regaining  his  camp.  The  Americans  were  close  behind  him,  and 
made  repeated  assaults  upon  his  works.  Late  in  the  day  Arnold,  who  Ivul 
no  regular  command,  dashed  to  the  front,  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  a 
bod\'  of  men,  and  actually  forced  himself  into  the  camp,  but,  his  horse  bein<T 
killed  and  he  wounded,  retired.  At  the  very  close  of  the  fight  Lieutenant- 
colonel  Brooks,  with  a  Massachusetts  regiment,  turned  the  British  right, 
stormed  and  carried  the  works  of  the  Brunsu  ickers,  which  he  held,  in  spite 
of  every  attempt  to  dislodge  him,  and  his  men  slept  on  the  ground  with 
their  arms  in  hand.  Burgoyne,  recognizing  that  his  position  was  untenable, 
changed  it  during  the  night  for  one  upon  the  river  bank,  which  he 
intrenched  and  hoped  to  be  able  to  hold  for  a  short  time.  Gates,  however, 
dispatched  a  part}'  higher  up  the  river  to  cut  off  retreat  in  that  direction, 
and  placed  a  second  detachment  upon  the  bank,  opposite  Burgoyne's  camp, 
thus  effectual!}'  hemming  him  in.  The  British  then  retired,  by  a  night 
march,  to  Saratoga,  losing  their  hospital  and  considerable  amounts  of  pro 
visions  and  baggage.  The  next  movement  of  their  commander  was  to  dis 
patch  a  bod}'  of  engineers  to  re-pair  the  road  to  Fort  Kdward,  but  the}-  had 
scarcely  set  out,  when  a  strong  bod}-  of  Americans  appeared  upon  the  bank 
opposite  the  camp,  and  indicated  a  design  to  cross.  Upon  seeing  these1,  the 
provincial  loyalists,  who  formed  a  portion  of  the  escort,  ran  away,  while  the 
Europeans  thought  prudent  to  retire.  It  was  then  boldly  resolved  to  deceit 
everything  but  such  baggage  and  ammunition  as  the  men  could  carry  upon, 
their  backs,  and  endeavor  to  force  a  retreat  to  Fort  George.  Spies  were 
sent  out,  but  returned  with  information  that  the  Americans  had  guarded 
every  ford  of  the  Hudson  and  had  also  established  a  fortified  camp  between 
Fort  Edward  and  Fort  George,  so  that  this  last  resource  was  necessarily 
abandoned.  There  now  seemed  no  hope  for  the  army,  and,  on  the  i/th 


152  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

day  of  October,  having  waited  five  days  longer  than  he  had  promised  Gen 
eral  Clinton,  Burgoyne  opened  negotiations  with  Gates  for  a  surrender.  A 
letter  written  by  him  to  Lord  Germain,  Secretary  of  State  for  America, 
graphically  states  the  condition  of  his  army.  It  says  :  "A  series  of  hard 
toil;  incessant  effort;  stubborn  action,  until  disabled  in  the  collateral 
branches  of  the  army  by  the  total  defection  of  the  Indians,  the  desertion  or 
timidity  of  the  Canadians  and  provincials,  some  individuals  excepted  ;  dis 
appointed  in  the  last  hope  of  co-operation  from  other  armies  ;  the  regular 
troops  reduced  by  losses  from  the  best  parts,  to  three  thousand  five  hundred 
fighting  men,  not  two  thousand  of  which  were  British ;  only  three  days  pro 
visions,  upon  short  allowance,  in  store  ;  invested  by  an  army  of  sixteen 
thousand  men ;  and  no  appearance  of  retreat  remaining,  I  called  into  coun 
cil  all  the  generals,  field  officers,  and  captains  commanding  corps,  and,  by 
their  unanimous  concurrence  and  advice,  I  was  induced  to  open  a  treaty 
with  Major-general  Gates." 

Upon  the  same  day  when  the  proposal  was  made,  terms  were  agreed 
upon,  and  articles  signed,  whereby  the  British  army  was  to  move  out  of  the 
camp  with  the  honors  of  war,  and  give  their  parole  to  not  again  serve  against 
the  colonies  during  the  war.  Officers  were  to  retain  their  arms,  and  private 
baggage  to  be  untouched. 

Upon  the  very  day  of  this  surrender,  after  the  terms  were  agreed  upon, 
but  before  they  had  been  signed,  came  news  which,  had  it  been  sooner 
received,  might  have  induced  Burgoyne  to  make  still  further  resistance.  It 
was  to  the  effect  that  Forts  Independence  and  Montgomery  had  fallen  into 
the  hands  of  Clinton,  that  the  river  was  open,  and  that  a  force  would  be  at 
once  dispatched  to  his  relief.  When  this  message  had  been  read  in  the 
council  of  war,  the  question  of  retiring  from  negotiation  was  considered, 
but  all  agreed  that  such  action  would  be  neither  safe  nor  honorable. 

The  movement  which  resulted  in  the  capture  of  the  Hudson  forts  was 
begun  by  the  embarkation  of  between  three  thousand  and  four  thousand 
men  under  Clinton,  who  landed  below  Peekskill  and  made  a  feint  upon  Fort 
Independence.  A  large  portion  of  the  force  crossed  the  river,  completely 
deceiving  Putnam,  who  commanded  at  Peekskill,  and  captured  Forts  Clinton 
and  Montgomery,  which  were  under  command  of  General  James  Clinton  and 
Governor  Clinton.  The  latter's  messages  to  Putnam,  calling  for  reinforce 
ments,  were  captured,  and  only  the  heavy  cannonading  awoke  the  general  to 
a  realization  of  the  fact  that  he  had  been  duped.  On  the  following  day  the 
American  vessels  of  war  lying  above  the  boom  which  spanned  the  river 
between  the  forts  were  burned,  and  Forts  Independence  and  Constitution 
evacuated.  This  left  the  river  in  the  hands  of  the  British,  who  signalized 
their  triumph  by  burning  Continental  village  and  Kingston  (then  Esopus), 
the  capital  of  New  York,  as  well  as  by  committing  other  unpardonable 
outrages.  The  army  then  re-embarked  and  pushed  up  the  river  with  Gover- 


THE    BURGOYNE    CAMPAIGN. 

nor  Clinton  keeping  abreast  of  it  on  one  side  and  Putnam  on  the  other. 
Then  it  put  about,  having  heard  of  Burgoyne's  surrender,  destroyed  the 
captured  forts  and  returned  to  New  York,  having  done  little  real  harm  to 
the  Americans — less  than  the  brutal  burning  and  pillaging  had  done  to  their 
own  cause,  in  inflaming  their  enemies  and  alienating  their  friends. 

The  account  of  this  campaign  has  been  given  thus  at  length  with 
the  object  of  making  clear  the  basis  of  the  conspiracy  which  was  meant 
to  overthrow  Washington  and  make  Gates  the  commander  of  the  army. 
Its  intrinsic  importance  makes  it  one  of  the  most  interesting  in  the 
history  of  the  Revolution,  as  it  was  followed  by  the  permanent  retire 
ment  of  the  British  from  the  northern  posts  to  St.  Johns,  and  as  it 
upset  the  plan  of  bisecting  the  colonies,  by  a  line  of  posts  from  New  York  to 
Canada.  It  renewed  the  confidence  of  the  people,  well  nigh  silenced  the 
tories  of  the  North,  frightened  the  Indians  into  good  behavior,  and  laid  a 
solid  foundation  for  the  formation  of  future  armies.  No  campaign  of  the 
war  exhibited  such  revulsion  of  fortune,  was  more  bravely  fought  or  more 
honorably  concluded  by  either  party,  yet  all  this  would  not  justify  so  pro 
longed  a  discussion  of  the  subject  in  this  place,  had  it  not  an  ulterior  signifi 
cance,  germane  to  the  principal  purpose  of  the  author's  work. 


J54  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 


CHAPTER  XIX, 

THE  WINTER  AT  VALLEY  FORGE.-CONWAY'S  CABAL. 

THE  story  of  that  terrible  winter  at  Valley  Forge  does  not  need 
recording  in  this  place.  The  very  name  of  the  spot  has  passed  into 
history  as  the  synonym  of  privation  and  suffering.  Probably  no  army 
engaged  in  a  civilized  warfare  and  in  a  rigorous  climate,  ever  went  into 
winter  quarters  so  ill  equipped,  so  ill  fed,  so  utterly  unprepared  and  unpro 
tected  as  did  they.  Had  one  desired  to  follow  their  march,  he  might  have 
done  so  by  the  bloody  footprints  of  two  thousand  shoeless  men  in  the  cruel 
snow ;  there  were  days  when  they  had  no  bread,  many  days  when  they  had 
no  meat,  and  the  times  were  neither  few  nor  far  between  when  they  had 
neither  bread  nor  meat,  and  starvation  literally  stared  them  in  the  face. 
Cold,  hungry,  naked,  sick — no  memory  of  victory  in  the  campaign  passed ; 
no  reason  for  hoping  better  things  for  the  future — what  wonder  that  many 
murmured — yet  those  who  murmured  were  fewer  than  those  who  suffered 
in  silence ;  what  wonder  that  some  threatened  mutiny  and  disobedience, — 
yet  these  were  but  a  handful  to  the  hundreds  who  died  in  mute  and  heroic 
endurance.  Through  it  all  Washington  stood  with  his  men,  cheering  and 
encouraging  them  by  his  words,  fortifying  them  by  his  example.  His  heart 
bled  for  them  as  they  suffered,  and  burned  with  indignation  at  the  sloth  and 
carelessness  that  made  such  suffering  for  the  time  unavoidable.  Whatever 
of  repute  the  most  brilliant  achievement  in  the  field  may  have  earned  for 
Washington,  none  of  all  his  noble  works  was  more  truly  great  than  the 
bravery,  cheerfulness,  and  devotion  which  bridged  over  the  winter  of  1778, 
and  kept  to  its  close  an  army  so  sorely  needed.  Others  might  and  did 
win  battles.  He  only  could  have  done  this  thing.  Yet  there  was  so 
little  of  justice  and  sympathy  in  the  people  whose  cause  he  had  espoused  ! 
At  the  very  outset,  the  Pennsylvania  legislature  adopted  a  memorial  to 
Congress,  protesting  against  the  placing  of  the  army  in  winter  quarters  and 
urging  that  it  be  kept  in  the  field.  Then,  for  once,  Washington  seemed 


THE  WINTER  AT  VALLEY  FORGE. CONWAY'S  CABAL.          155 

to  lose  his  usual  patience,  and  wrote  a  letter  to  the  president  of  Congress 
which  tells  more  of  the  actual  condition  of  affairs  than  could  pages  of 
description,  and  at  the  same  time  gives  some  idea  of  his  own  perplexities 
and  troubles.  He  wrote: 

"Though  I  have  been  tender,  heretofore,  of  giving  any  opinion  or  lodg 
ing  complaints,  as  the  change  in  that  department*  took  place  contrary  to 
my  judgment,  and  the  consequences  thereof  were  predicted  ;  yet,  finding 
that  the  inactivity  of  the  army,  whether  for  want  of  provisions,  clothes,  or 
other  essentials,  is  charged  to  my  account,  not  only  by  the  common  vulgar, 
but  by  those  in  power,  it  is  time  to  speak  plainly  in  exculpation  of  myself.  In 
truth,  then,  I  can  declare  that  no  man,  in  my  opinion,  ever  had  his  measures 
more  impeded  than  I  have,  by  every  department  of  the  army.  Since  the 
month  of  July  we  have  had  no  assistance  frrm  the  quartermaster-general; 
and,  to  want  of  assistance  from  this  department,  the  commissary-general 
charges  great  part  of  his  deficiency.  To  this  I  an;  to  add  that  notwithstand 
ing  it  is  a  standing  order  and  often  repeated,  that  the  troops  shall  always 
have  two  days  provisions  by  them,  that  they  might  be  ready  at  any  sudden 
call;  yet  an  opportunity  has  scarcely  ever  offered  of  taking  an  advantage  of 
the  enemy,  that  it  has  not  been  either  totally  obstructed  or  greatly  impeded 

on  this  account As  a  proof  of  the  little   benefit  received  from 

a  clothier-general,  and  as  a  further  proof  of  the  inability  of  an  army  under 
the  circumstances  of  this,  to  perform  the  common  duties  of  soldiers  (besides 
a  number  of  men  confined  to  hospitals,  for  want  of  shoes,  and  others  in 
farmers'  houses  on  the  same  account)  we  have,  by  a  field  return  this  day 
made,  no  less  than  two  thousand  eight  hundred  and  ninety-eight  men  now 
in  camp,  unfit  for  duty,  because  they  are  barefoot  and  otherwise  naked. 
By  the  same  return  it  appears  that  our  whole  strength  in  Continental  troops, 
including  the  Eastern  brigades  which  have  joined  us  since  the  surrender  of 
Burgoyne,  exclusive  of  the  Maryland  troops  sent  to  Wilmington,  amounts 
to  no  more  than  eight  thousand  two  hundred  in  camp,  fit  for  duty ;  not 
withstanding  which,  and  that,  since  the  4th  instant,  our  numbers  fit  for  duty 
from  the  hardships  and  exposure  they  have  undergone — particularly  on 
account  of  blankets,  numbers  having  been  obliged,  and  still  arc,  to  sit  up 
all  night  by  the  fires,  instead  of  taking  comfortable  rest  in  a  natural  and 
common  way — have  decreased  near  two  thousand  men.  We  find  gentle 
men,  without  knowing  whether  the  army  was  really  going  into  winter  quar 
ters  or  not,  (for  I  am  sure  no  resolution  of  mine  could  warrant  the  remon 
strance,)  reprobating  the  measure  as  much  as  if  they  thought  the  soldiers 
were  made  of  stocks  or  stones,  and  equally  insensible  of  frost  and  snow; 
and,  moreover,  as  if  they  conceived  it  easily  practicable  for  an  inferior  army, 
under  the  disadvantages  I  have  described  ours  to  be  in — which  are  by  nc 

*  The  Quartermaster's. 


156  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

means  exaggerated — to  confine  a  superior  one  in  all  respects,  well  appointed 
and  provided  for  a  winter's  campaign,  within  the  city  of  Philadelphia,  and  to 
cover  from  depredation  and  waste  the  States  of  Pennsylvania  and  New 
Jersey.  But  what  makes  this  matter  still  more  extraordinary  in  my  eyes  is, 
that  these  very  gentlemen,  who  were  well  apprised  of  the  nakedness  of  the 
troops  from  ocular  demonstration — who  advised  me  near  a  month  ago  to 
postpone  the  execution  of  a  plan  I  was  about  to  adopt,  in  consequence  of  a 
resolve  of  Congress  for  seizing  clothes,  under  strong  assurances  that  an 
ample  supply  would  be  collected  in  ten  days,  agreeably  to  a  decree  of  the 
State  (not  one  article  of  which,  by  the  way,  is  yet  come  to  hand)  should 
think  a  winter's  campaign  and  the  covering  of  those  States  from  the  inva 
sion  of  an  enemy,  so  easy  and  practicable  a  business.  I  can  assure  those 
gentlemen  that  it  is  a  much  easier  and  less  distressing  thing  to  draw  remon 
strances  in  a  comfortable  room,  by  a  good  fireside,  than  to  occupy  a  cold, 
bleak  hill,  and  sleep  under  frost  and  snow,  without  clothes  or  blankets. 
However,  they  seem  to  have  little  feeling  for  the  naked  and  distressed 
soldiers,  I  feel  abundantly  for  them,  and,  from  my  soul,  I  pity  those  miseries 
which  it  is  neither  in  my  power  to  relieve  nor  prevent.  It  is  for  these  rea 
sons  that  I  have  dwelt  upon  the  subject,  and  it  adds  not  a  little  to  my  diffi 
culties  and  distress,  to  find  that  much  more  is  expected  of  me  than  is 
possible  to  be  performed,  and  that,  upon  the  ground  of  safety  and  policy,  I 
am  obliged  to  conceal  the  true  state  of  the  army  from  public  view,  and 
thereby  expose  myself  to  detraction  and  calumny." 

These  words  from  a  man  of  Washington's  reticent  and  forbearing  habit, 
meant  much  more  than  they  would  have  done  from  one  accustomed  to 
protestations,  and  given  to  answering  small  criticisms.  They  were  wrung 
from  him  after  patient  months  of  silence,  under  misrepresentation, 
calumny,  and  abuse.  He  wrote,  even  when  he  did  give  way  to  his  feelings, 
moderately  and  judicially,  not  so  much  seeking  justice  for  himself,  as  hoping 
that  a  plain  statement  of  the  truth  might  do  something  toward  alleviating 
the  condition  of  his  suffering  army.  With  the  quotation  of  this  long 
letter,  it  is  necessary  to  dismiss  the  subject  of  a  winter  doubly  memo 
rable,  for  the  hardship,  suffering,  and  death  that  marked  the  slow  dragging 
of  its  days  along,  and  for  the  heroism  of  the  victims,  and  the  fortitude  of 
their  illustrious  leader. 

It  was  during  the  later  days  of  the  campaign  of  1777,  that  Washington 
first  became  conscious  of  the  existence  of  a  systematic  intrigue  against  him 
self.  He  had  before  recognized  the  fact  that  some  of  his  officers — notably 
Lee  and  Gates — had  failed  in  that  careful  respect  and  prompt  and  exact 
obedience  to  orders,  which  one  more  jealous  of  his  own  repute,  and  less 
single  minded  in  his  patriotism,  would  have  exacted.  These  things  hurt 
him,  but  he  charged  them  to  the  defective  organization  of  his  army  and  to 
loose  ideas  of  military  etiquette,  rather  than  to  any  deliberate  intent  to  insult 


TH:-:  WINTER  AT  VALLEY  FORGE. — CONWAVS  CABAL.  157 

and  humiliate  him.     In  this  his  sagacity  failed  him.     The  story  of  the  des 
picable  plot  is,  briefly,  as  follows :     Among  the  foreign  officers  who  sought 
service  in  the  American  army  was  one  Conway,  an   Irishman  by  blood,  who 
claimed  to  have  passed  his  life  in  France,  and  to  have  served  in  the  French 
army  with  the  rank  of  colonel.     He  also  represented    himself  to  be  a  cheva 
lier  of  St.    Louis,  and  wore  upon  his   breast   the  decoration  of   that  order. 
Conway  was  unquestionably  brave,  but  he  showed  himself  from  the  first,  to 
be  an  undesirable  addition  to  the  army,  being  arrogant  and  presumptuous  to 
the    last    degree.      These    were    faults    with    which  Washington    had    little 
patience,  and  he  imbibed  a  strong  dislike  for  Conway.      Congress  had  given 
the  latter  a  commission  as  brigadier-general,   which  seemed  to  satisfy  his 
ambition  until   Baron  De  Kalb,  a  German,  who  had  also  served  in  France, 
was  made  a  major-general  in  the  colonial  army.     Conway  was  then  loud  in  his 
complaints.     De  Kalb,  he  said,  had  been  his  inferior  in  the  army  of  France, 
and  to  now  be  ranked  by  him   would  be  a  humiliation  beyond  endurance. 
He  asked  Congress  for  a  major-generalship  at  least  simultaneous  with  that 
of  De  Kalb.     When  this  application  was  brought  to  Washington's  notice,  he 
addressed  a  vigorous   protest  to  Congress,    saying  that,    if  every  matter  of 
precedence  among  foreign  officers  were  to  be  thus  accommodated,  it  would 
result  in  advancing  many  of  them  over  the  heads  of  Americans,  their  seniors 
in  the  service;    that  the  most  valuable  of  these  would  resign,  and   the  army 
be  brought  to  hopeless  demoralization  and  ruin.      As  a  result  of  this  inter 
vention,  Conway  was  for  the  time  disappointed  in  his  ambition,  and  hence 
felt  very  bitterly  toward  Washington.      lie  at  once  became  the  head  and 
front  of  a  movement,  looking  to  the  displacement  of  Washington  in  favor 
of   Gates,  which  has,  from  his  participation  in  it,  passed   into  history  as  the 
Conway     cabal.       The    latter,    a    weak    and    vain    man,    had    already    done 
much  to  detract  from   Washington's   reputation.      With   his  head  turned  by 
the  surrender  of  Burgoyne,  he  was  but  too  read}'  to  fall  in  with  a  plan  which 
promised  to  serve  his  own  ambition.      The  other  military  members  of  the 
cabal  were  less  prominent,  but  it  had  much  strength — at  one  time  a  majority 
— in   Congress,  and  a  large  following  among  the  grumblers  and  fault  finders 
of  the   people.      Lovell,    a  delegate  from    Massachusetts,    was  probably  its 
strongest  member  in  Congress.      The  first  act  of  any  of  these  precious  asso 
ciates,    of  which    Washington   took  notice,   was   the  writing  of  a  letter  by 
Conway  to   General  Gates,  in  which  a  very  insulting   allusion  was  made  to 
the    commander    in    chief.       Knowledge   of    this    coming   to    the  latter,   he 
addressed  to  Conway  this  simple  and  dignified  letter: 

"SiR  :  A  letter  which  I  received  last  night  contained  the  following  para 
graph  :  'In  a  letter  from  General  Conway  to  General  Gates,  he  says: 
"  Heaven  has  determined  to  save  your  country,  or  a  weak  general  and  bad 
counsellors  would  have  ruined  it."  I  am,  Sir,  your  humble  servant, 

GEORGE  WASHINGTON." 


158  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

Had  Washington  flown  into  a  rage,  or  sent  any  but  the  language  of 
simple  announcement,  Conway  would  have  been  less  completely  demor 
alized  than  he  was,  by  this  shot  thrown  into  his  camp.  Accustomed  to  the 
rigorous  usages  of  European  war,  he  doubtless  saw  visions  of  court-martial 
and  dismissal  from  the  army.  Certainly  he  wrote  Washington  a  letter,  in 
which  he  made  the  hopeless  effort  to  excuse  himself,  upon  the  ground  that 
the  letter  was  a  familiar  one,  written  to  a  personal  friend,  and  that  the  lan 
guage  was  loosely  used,  and  was  not  intended  to  carry  its  full  and  legitimate 
significance.  It  was  fortunate  for  Washington  that  this  knowledge  came  to 
him  so  soon,  for  it  opened  his  eyes,  and  placed  him  upon  his  guard.  It  also 
explained  to  him  the  action  of  Gates,  who,  after  Burgoyne's  surrender, 
failed  to  make  any  other  report  of  the  result  than  one  to  Congress,  leaving 
his  commander  to  learn  it  by  report.  This  gross  disrespect  upon  the  part 
of  Gates,  had  drawn  from  his  superior  these  words,  appended  to  a  letter  of 
congratulation  upon  the  result  of  the  campaign:  "At  the  same  time,  I 
cannot  but  regret  that  a  matter  of  such  magnitude,  and  so  interesting  to 
our  general  operations,  should  have  reached  me  by  report  only;  or  through 
the  channel  of  letters  not  bearing  that  authority  which  the  importance  of  it 
required,  and  which  it  would  have  received  by  a  line  under  your  signature, 
stating  the  simple  fact." 

Gates  was  probably  too  much  elated  to  feel  the  sting  of  this  rebuke. 
He  had  taken  to  himself  the  whole  credit  and  glory  of  a  success  which  was 
but  the  result  of  Schuyler's  wisdom  and  generalship  ;  the  apple  had  but 
fallen  into  his  lap,  and  he  claimed  the  credit  of  having  climbed  to  pluck  it. 
Any  colonel  of  militia  in  the  army,  could  have  led  that  army  to  victory  at 
any  time  after  Gates  took  command  ;  yet  he,  a  narrow  and  conceited  man 
of  mediocre  ability,  took  to  himself  the  praise,  and  it  made  him  like  Phaeton 
of  old,  to  grasp  for  the  chariot  reins  of  Jove.  Had  he  reached  them,  he 
would  have  fallen  as  profoundly  as  did  the  mythical  usurper  of  divine 
power. 

All  this  neglect,  and  Gates'  subsequent  unwillingness  to  dispatch 
troops  to  the  south,  were  now  clear  to  Washington.  Soon  after  making  his 
lame  excuse  to  Washington,  Conway  sent  in  his  resignation  to  Con 
gress,  alleging,  in  conversation,  as  his  reason,  that  some  members  of 
that  body  had  made  disparaging  remarks  concerning  him.  His  real 
reason  was  unquestionably  far  different  and  more  urgent,  but  he  did 
not  betray  it,  nor  did  his  injured  commander.  However  much  or  little 
was  known  of  Conway's  letter  to  Gates,  it  was  certainly  well  understood  in 
Congress,  that  Washington  and  Conway  were  not  in  harmony,  and  that  the 
former  would  deem  it  a  fortunate  event  if  Conway  should  leave  the  army. 
This  being  so,  the  vote  upon  his  resignation  was  a  fair  test  of  the 
strength  of  the  cabal ;  it  resulted  in  a  refusal  to  accept,  which  was  only 
preliminary  to  his  promotion.  Thus  the  cabal  won  its  first  victory.  Gates, 


THE  WINTER  AT  VALLEY  FORGE. — CONWAY'S  CABAL.          159 

on  his  part,  was  a  sharer  of  Conway's  anxiety.      General  Mifflin,  one  of  the 
intriguants,  wrote  him  at  Albany: 

"  DEAR  GENERAL:  An  extract  from  Conway's  letter  to  you  has  been 
procured  and  sent  to  headquarters.  The  extract  was  a  collection  of  just  sen 
timents,  yet  such  as  should  not  have  been  intrusted  to  any  of  your  family. 
General  Washington  enclosed  it  to  Conway  without  remark. 
My  dear  General,  take  care  of  your  sincerity  and  frank  disposition.  They 
cannot  injure  yourself,  but  may  injure  some  of  your  best  friends. 

4 'Affectionately  yours." 

Gates  was  utterly  upset  at  this  news ;  he  had  received  many  letters 
from  Conway;  which  was  this  that  had  so  mysteriously  strayed  from  his 
portfolio,  to  that  of  his  commander  in  chief?  Some  were  probably  more  than 
compromising;  was  it  one  of  these,  or  a  less  important  letter?  Who  was 
the  traitor  who  had  thus  betrayed  him,  and  what  damage  might  such  an  one 
not  do,  if  undetected?  In  this  state  of  uncertainty,  Gates  lost  his  poor, 
weak  head,  and  did  the  very  thing  of  all  others  which  should  have  been  left 
undone,  when  he  wrote  the  following  letter  to  Washington  : 

"Sii<:  I  shall  not  attempt  to  describe  what,  as  a  private  gentleman,  I 
cannot  help  feeling,  on  representing  to  my  mind  the  disagreeable  situation 
in  which  confidential  letters,  when  exposed  to  public  inspection,  may  place 
an  unsuspecting  correspondent;  but  as  a  public  officer,  I  conjure  your 
excellency  to  give  me  all  the  assistance  you  can,  in  tracing  the  author  of  the 
infidelity,  which  put  extracts  from  General  Conway's  letters  to  me  into 
your  hands.  Those  letters  have  been  stealingly  copied,  but  which  of  them, 
when  or  by  whom,  is  to  me,  as  yet  an  unfathomable  secret. 
It  is,  I  believe,  in  your  excellency's  power  to  do  me  and  the  United  States 
a  very  important  service,  by  detecting  a  wretch  who  may  betray  me,  and 
Capitally  injure  the  very  operations  under  your  immediate  directions.  The 
crime  being  eventually  so  important  that  the  least  loss  of  time  may  be 
attended  by  the  worst  consequences,  and  it  being  unknown  to  me  whether 
the  letter  came  to  you  through  a  member  of  Congress  or  from  an  officer, 
I  shall  have  the  honor  of  transmitting  a  copy  of  this  to  the  president,  that 
the  Congress  may,  in  concert  with  your  excellency,  obtain  as  soon  as  possi 
ble  a  discovery  which  so  deeply  affects  the  safety  of  the  states.  Crimes  of 
that  magnitude  ought  not  to  remain  unpunished." 

What  a  miserably,  transparently,  disingenuous  letter,  and  how  com 
pletely  defeating  its  own  ends !  Gates  deprecated  publicity,  yet  gave  to 
Congress,  hence  to  the  world,  a  secret  which  Washington  had  considerately 
kept;  he  betrayed  the  fact  that  he  was  in  confidential  correspondence  with 
Conway;  that  there  were  in  existence  other  letters,  which,  if  made  public, 
might  compromise  him  ;  and  reached  the  height  of  folly  and  absurdity 
when  he  attempted  to  cover  his  obvious  personal  anxiety,  with  a  pretense  of 
zeal  for  preserving  the  secrets  of  the  public  service. 


l6O  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

Washington's  answer  acquainted  him  with  the  agent  and  extent  of 
his  exposure.  It  was  written  upon  the  4th  of  January  and  is  in  these 
words  :  "  Your  letter  of  the  8th  ultimo  came  to  my  hands  a  few  days  ago, 
and,  to  my  great  surprise,  informed  me  that  a  copy  of  it  had  been  sent  to 
Congress,  for  what  reason  I  find  myself  unable  to  account ;  but,  as  some 
end  was  doubtless  intended  to  be  answered  by  it,  I  am  laid  under  the  dis 
agreeable  necessity  of  returning  my  answer  through  the  same  channel,  lest 
any  member  of  that  honorable  body  should  harbor  an  unfavorable  suspicion 
of  my  having  practiced  some  indirect  means  to  come  at  the  contents  of  the 
confidential  letters,  between  you  and  General  Conway.  I  am  to  inform  you, 
then,  that  Colonel  Wilkinson,  on  his  way  to  Congress,  in  the  month  of 
October  last,  fell  in  with  Lord  Stirling,  at  Reading,  and,  not  in  confidence 
that  I  ever  understood,  informed  his  aide  de  camp,  Major  McWilliams,  that 
General  Conway  had  written  this  to  you :  '  Heaven  has  been  determined 
to  save  your  country,  or  a  weak  general  and  bad  counsellors  would  have 
ruined  it.'  Lord  Stirling,  from  motives  of  friendship,  transmitted  the 
account  with  this  remark :  '  The  enclosed  was  communicated  by  Colonel 
Wilkinson  to  Major  McWilliams.  Such  wicked  duplicity  of  conduct  I  shall 
always  think  it  my  duty  to  detect.'  .  .  Neither  this  letter,  nor  the 
information  which  occasioned  it,  was  ever,  directly  or  indirectly,  communi 
cated  by  me  to  a  single  officer  of  this  army,  outside  of  my  own  family, 
excepting  the  Marquis  de  Lafayette,  who,  having  been  spoken  to  on  the 
subject  by  General  Conway,  applied  for,  and  saw,  under  injunctions  of 
secrecy,  the  letter  which  contained  Wilkinson's  information ;  so  desirous 
was  I  of  concealing  every  matter  which  could,  in  its  consequences,  give  the 
smallest  interruption  to  the  tranquility  of  the  army,  or  afford  a  gleam  of 
hope  to  the  enemy  by  dissensions  therein.  .  .  .  Till  Lord  Stir 
ling's  letter  came  to  my  hands,  I  never  knew  that  General  Conway,  whom 
I  viewed  in  the  light  of  a  stranger  to  you,  was  a  correspondent  of  yours  ; 
much  less  did  I  suspect  that  I  was  the  subject  of  your  confidential  letters. 
Pardon  me  then,  for  adding  that  so  far  from  considering  the  safety  of  the 
States  can  be  affected,  or  in  the  smallest  degree  injured  by  a  discovery  of 
this  kind,  or  that  I  should  be  called  upon,  in  such  solemn  words  to  point 
out  the  author,  I  considered  the  information  as  coming  from  yourself,  and 
given  with  a  view  to  forewarn  and  so  forearm  me  against  a  secret  enemy,  or, 
in  other  words,  a  dangerous  incendiary  ;  in  which  character,  sooner  or  later, 
this  country  will  know  General  Conway.  But  in  this,  as  in  other  matters 
of  late,  I  have  found  myself  mistaken." 

When  this  letter  came  to  Gates,  he  was  greatly  relieved  at  finding  that 
but  one  clause  of  a  single  letter  had  come  to  the  hands  of  the  commander 
in  chief,  and  that  not  through  a  channel  which  promised  any  further 
exposure  of  what  was  doubtless,  as  a  whole,  a  very  damaging  correspond 
ence.  It  gave  him,  too,  a  scapegoat,  in  the  person  of  Wilkinson,  who,  as 


THE    WINTER    AT    VALLEY    FORGE. — CONWAY'S    CABAL.  l6l 

his  aide  de-camp,  had  been  one  of  the  most  subservient  of  the  minor  crea 
tures  of  the  cabal.  One  of  the  measures  adopted  by  Congress,  and  which 
clearly  indicated  the  strength  of  the  combination  against  Washington,  was 
the  increase  of  the  board  of  war,  from  three  to  five  members,  including 
Joseph  Trumbull,  General  Mifflin,  and  General  Gates,  the  last  named  being 
made  president  of  the  board.  This  occurred  on  the  2/th  of  November. 
In  December,  Congress  carried  into  effect  one  of  the  earliest  recommenda-. 
tions  of  the  board  of  war,  by  appointing  two  inspectors-general,  for  tha 
promotion  of  discipline  and  reformation  of  abuses  in  the  army,  and,  to  om 
of  these  positions,  appointed  Conway,  with  the  rank  of  major-general.  A 
more  pointed  and  deliberate  affront  to  the  commander  in  chief  could  scarcely 
have  been  conceived,  and  his  resignation  would  doubtless  have  followed,  but 
for  the  single-minded  patriotism  which  invariably  led  him  to  sacrifice  every 
thing  of  personal  feeling  for  the  advancement  of  the  cause  which  he  held  so 
dear.  Gates  was  urged  by  his  associates  and  supporters  to  make  haste  in 
assuming  his  place  at  the  head  of  the  board  of  war  and  thus  save  the 
southern  army  and  his  country.  In  compliance  he  hastened  to  Yorktown, 
the  then  seat  of  government,  and  it  was  at  that  place,  earl}-  in  January,  that 
he  received  Washington's  answer  to  his  letter  of  inquiry.  lie  at  once 
penned  the  following  reply:  "The  letter  which  I  had  the  honor  to  receive 
yesterday  from  your  Excellency,  has  relieved  me  from  unspeakable  uneasi 
ness.  I  now  anticipate  the  pleasure  it  will  give  you,  when  you  discover  that 
what  has  been  conveyed  to  you  as  an  abstract  of  General  Conway 's  letter 
to  me,  was  not  an  information  which  friendly  motives  induced  a  man  of 
honor  to  give,  that  injured  virtue  might  be  forearmed  against  secret  enemies. 
The  paragraph  which  your  Excellency  has  condescended  to  transcribe,  is 
spurious.  It  was  certainly  fabricated  to  answer  the  most  selfish  and  wicked 
purposes." 

The  letter  proceeds  at  length  to  state  that  the  genuine  communication 
from  Conway  did,  in  fact,  contain  proper  criticisms  of  the  army,  relating  to 
its  organization  and  discipline,  but  nothing  assailing  the  commander  in 
chief.  He  follows  with  a  lame  excuse  for  his  former  agitation  and  for  hav 
ing  made  his  communication  to  Congress  as  well  as  to  Washington  in 
person,  and  concludes:  "About  the  time  I  was  forwarding  those  letters, 
Brigadier-general  Wilkinson  returned  to  Albany.  I  informed  him  of  the 
treachery  which  had  been  committed,  but  I  concealed  from  him  the  meas 
ures  I  was  pursuing  to  unmask  the  author.  Wilkinson  answered  he  was 
assured  it  never  would  come  to  light,  and  endeavored  to  fix  my  suspicions 
on  Lieutenant-colonel  Troup,  who,  he  said,  might  have  incautiously  con 
versed  on  the  substance  of  General  Conway's  letter  with  Colonel  Hamilton, 
whom  you  had  sent  not  long  before  to  Albany.  I  did  not  listen  to  this 
insinuation  against  your  aide-de-camp  and  mine."  The  original  draft  of  this 
letter,  which  remains  among  the  papers  of  Gates,  is  thus  quoted  by  Irving: 


1 62  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

4 'But  the  light  your  Excellency  has  just  assisted  me  with,  exhibiting  the 
many  qualifications  which  are  necessarily  blended  together  in  the  head  and 
heart  of  General  Wilkinson.  I  would  not  avoid  this  fact:  it  will  enable  your 
Excellency  to  judge  whether  or  no  he  would  scruple  to  make  such  a  forgery 
as  that  which  he  now  stands  charged  with,  and  ought  to  be  exemplaiily 
punished."  This  and  much  more  of  the  same  purport  was  erased  by  Gates, 
and  not  included  in  his  final  letter  to  Washington,  but  came,  in  some  man 
ner,  into  the  hands  of  Wilkinson.  Conway  wrote  to  Washington  on  the  27th 
of  January,  informing  the  commander  in  chief  that  the  letter  had  been 
returned  by  Gates  and  that  he  was  very  happy  to  find  "that  the  paragraph 
so  much  spoken  of  did  not  exist  in  the  said  letter,  nor  anything  like  it." 

Washington  for  once  felt  too  deeply  the  personal  treachery  which  had 
been  directed  against  him,  to  remain  silent  and  thus  tacitly  accept  the  expla 
nation  conveyed  in  these  two  obviously  disingenuous,  if  not  untruthful,  let 
ters.  He  wrote  Gates,  judicially  analyzing  the  two  letters  written  by  the 
latter,  and  pointing  out  their  inconsistency  with  each  other  and  that  of  each 
within  itself;  how  what  he  had  practically  admitted  in  one  was  denied  in  the 
other,  in  which  he  had  pronounced  the  extract  from  Conway's  letter  "  a 
wicked  forgery."  Washington  continued:  "It  is  not  my  intention  to 
contradict  this  assertion,  but  only  to  intimate  some  considerations  which 
tend  to  induce  the  supposition  that,  though  none  of  General  Conway's  letters 
to  you  contained  the  offensive  passage  mentioned,  there  might  have  been 
something  too  nearly  related  to  it,  that  could  give  such  an  extraordinary 
alarm;  if  this  is  not  the  case,  how  easy  to  have  declared  in  the  first  instance 
that  there  was  nothing  exceptionable  in  them,  and  to  have  produced  the  let 
ters  themselves  in  support  of  it.  The  propriety  of  the  objections  suggested 
against  submitting  them  to  inspection  may  well  be  questioned.  The  various 
reports  circulated  concerning  their  contents  were,  perhaps,  so  many  argu 
ments  for  making  them  speak  for  themselves,  to  place  the  matter  upon  the 
footing  of  certainty.  Concealment  in  an  affair  which  had  made  so  much 
noise,  though  not  by  my  means,  will  naturally  lead  men  to  conjecture  the 
worst,  and  it  will  be  a  subject  of  speculation  even  to  candor  itself.  The 
anxiety  and  jealousy  you  apprehend  from  revealing  the  letter  will  be  very 

apt  to  be   increased   by  suppressing  it Notwithstanding  the 

hopeful  presages  you  are  pleased  to  figure  to  yourself,  of  General  Conway's 
firm  and  constant  friendship  to  America,  I  cannot  persuade  myself  to  retract 
the  prediction  concerning  him,  which  you  so  emphatically  wish  had  not  been 
inserted  in  my  last.  A  better  acquaintance  with  him  than  I  have  reason  to 
think  you  have  had,  from  what  you  say,  and  a  concurrence  of  circumstances, 
oblige  me  to  give  him  but  little  credit  for  the  qualifications  of  his  heart,  of 
which,  at  least,  I  beg  leave  to  assume  the  privilege  of  being  a  tolerable 
judge.  Were  it  necessary,  more  instances  than  one  might  be  adduced,  from 
his  behavior  and  conversation,  to  manifest  that  he  is  capable  of  all  the  malig- 


HORATIO    GATKS. 


THE    WINTER    AT    VALLEY    FORGE. CONWAY'S    CABAL.  163 

nity  of  detraction,  and  all  the  meanness  of  intrigue,  to  gratify  the  absurd 
resentment  of  disappointed  vanity,  or  to  answer  the  purpose  of  personal 
aggrandizement  and  promote  the  interest  of  faction." 

An  anonymous  letter,  dated  at  Yorktown  on  the  I2th  of  January,  and 
addressed  to  Patrick  Henry,  contained  these  words:  "We  have  only  passed 
the  Red  Sea.  A  dreary  wilderness  is  still  before  us,  and,  unless  a  Moses  or 
a  Joshua  is  raised  up  in  our  behalf,  we  must  perish  before  we  reach  the  prom 
ised  land.  But  is  our  cause  desperate?  By  no  means.  We  have  wisdom, 
virtue,  and  strength  enough  to  save  us,  if  they  could  be  called  into  action. 
The  Northern  army  has  shown  us  what  Americans  are  capable  of  doing  with 
a  general  at  their  head.  The  spirit  of  the  Southern  army  is  in  no  way  infe 
rior  to  the  spirit  of  the  Northern.  A  Gates,  a  Lee,  or  a  Conway  would,  in 
a  few  weeks,  render  them  an  irresistible  body  of  men." 

Another  anonymous  letter  in  the  same  tone,  and  bearing  marks  of  the 
same  handiwork,  was  sent  to  Mr.  Laurens,  for  presentation  to  Congress.  It 
concludes  as  follows:  "That  the  head  cannot  possibly  be  sound  when  the 
whole  body  is  disordered ;  that  the  people  of  America  have  been  guilty  of 
idolatry,  by  making  a  man  their  god,  and  the  God  of  Heaven  and  earth  will 
convince  them,  by  woful  experience,  that  he  is  only  a  man;  that  no  good 
can  be  expected  of  the  standing  army  until  Baal  and  his  worshippers  are 
banished  from  the  camp." 

Mr.  Laurens  did  not  present  this  letter  to  Congress,  but,  instead,  sent 
it  to  Washington.  The  latter  made  the  following  characteristic  reply  to  the 
letter  in  which  it  was  inclosed  :  "I  can  not  sufficiently  express  the  obliga 
tion  I  feel  to  you  for  your  friendship  and  politeness,  upon  an  occasion  in 
which  I  am  so  deeply  interested.  I  was  not  unappriscd  that  a  malignant 
faction  had  been  for  some  time  forming  to  my  prejudice;  and  which,  con 
scious  as  I  am  of  having  ever  done  all  in  my  power  to  answer  the  important 
purposes  of  the  trust  reposed  in  me,  could  not  but  give  me  some  pain  on  a 
personal  account.  But  my  chief  concern  arises  from  an  apprehension  of  the 
dangerous  consequences  which  intestine  dissensions  ma}-  produce  to  the 
common  cause.  My  enemies  take  an  ungenerous  advantage  of  me.  They 
know  the  delicacy  of  my  situation,  and  that  motives  of  policy  deprive  me 
of  the  defense  I  might  otherwise  make  against  their  insidious  attacks.  They 
know  I  cannot  combat  their  insinuations,  however  injurious,  without  dis 
closing  secrets  which  it  is  of  the  utmost  moment  to  conceal.  But  win*  should 
I  expect  to  be  exempt  from  censure,  the  unfailing  lot  of  an  elevated  station  ? 
Merit  and  talents  with  which  I  can  have  no  pretense  of  rivalship,  have  ever 
been  subjected  to  it.  My  heart  tells  me  that  it  has  ever  been  in}-  unremit 
ting  aim  to  do  the  best  that  circumstances  would  permit;  yet  I  have  been 
very  often  mistaken  in  my  judgment  of  the  means,  and  may,  in  many 
instances,  deserve  the  imputation  of  error." 

Gates  was  impatient  to  make  some  bold  stroke  as  president  of  the  board 


164  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

of  war,  which  should  secure  his  position  and  promote  his  aims.  To  this 
end  he  and  his  counsellors  projected  a  winter  expedition  against  Canada,  to 
set  out  from  Albany,  pass  Lake  Champlain  upon  the  ice,  destroy  the  British 
vessels  at  St.  Johns,  and  capture  Montreal.  With  a  view  to  seduce  Lafay 
ette  from  his  allegiance  to  Washington,  it  was  proposed  to  give  the  com 
mand  of  the  expedition  to  him,  with  Conway  as  second  in  command.  The 
first  intimation  that  the  commander  in  chief  received  that  so  foolhardy  an 
undertaking  had  been  agreed  upon,  was  the  forwarding  of  notice  of  Lafay 
ette's  appointment  to  the  command,  in  a  letter  from  Gates  to  himself,  asking 
his  advice,  as  a  mere  matter  of  form,  more  insulting  in  its  observance  than 
in  its  omission.  Lafayette  was  at  first  determined  not  to  accept  the  com 
mand,  but  Washington  persuaded  him  to  alter  his  resolution,  and  he  pro 
ceeded  to  Yorktown,  where  he  dissipated  the  hopes  of  the  cabal,  by 
proposing  the  health  of  the  commander  in  chief  at  the  dinner-table  of  General 
Gates,  and  by  insisting  that  Baron  De  Kalb  should  receive  an  appointment 
to  accompany  him  to  the  North.  The  history  of  the  abortive  and  ill-advised 
expedition  does  not  need  recounting  here.  It  was  the  first  stone  hung  about 
the  neck  of  the  cabal,  which  eventually  aided  to  sink  it. 

The  last  of  the  Conway-Gates  correspondence  was  not  yet.  Wilkinson, 
who  was  a  most  accomplished  liar,  had  denied  to  General  Gates,  the  telling 
of  tales  about  the  Conway  correspondence  to  Lord  Stirling  or  Major  Mc- 
Williams.  Stirling  thereupon  wrote  him  a  note  asking  an  explanation, 
when,  with  mighty  rhetorical  flourish,  Wilkinson  responded,  saying  that  he 
might,  in  a  moment  of  confidence,  have  said  something  of  the  import 
alleged.  Gates,  upon  his  part,  did  not  receive  the  denial  of  his  former  aide 
as  absolutely  conclusive,  and  Wilkinson  challenged  Gates  to  a  duel,  which 
was,  however,  never  fought,  being  interrupted  by  a  touching  and  lachrymose 
reconciliation  of  the  two  men,  who  had  only  ceased  villifying  each  other  to 
appeal  to  the  code. 

The  cabal  had  already  begun  to  suffer  from  its  exposure.  The  people 
love  fair  play,  and  the  publication  of  the  existence  of  an  organized  movement 
to  crush  any  public  man  is  apt  to  cause  its  recoil  upon  its  originators.  The 
scandal  connected  with  the  Conway-Gates  letter,  had  been  of  less  injury 
than  benefit  to  Washington.  Following  it,  the  course  of  Wilkinson  had 
placed  that  officer  before  the  world  in  a  most  unenviable  light,  and,  as  was 
inevitable,  those  with  whom  he  had  been  associated,  suffered  by  that  fact. 

One  crowning  and  overreaching  act  of  folly  remained  to  signalize 
the  closing  days  of  the  conspiracy.  During  the  winter  of  1778,  a  num 
ber  of  letters,  purporting  to  have  been  written  by  Washington,  were 
republished  in  pamphlet  form  in  England,  and  reproduced  in  pamphlet 
and  broadside  in  New  York  and  Philadelphia.  These  were  forged, 
though  by  a  clever  hand  and  by  some  person  having  a  degree  of 
familiarity  with  the  private  affairs  of  the  commander  in  chief.  Some 


THE  WINTER  AT  VALLEY  FORGE. CONWAY'S  CABAL.  165 

of  the    letters    were   addressed  to   Mrs.    Washington,    but   the  majority  to 
Lund   Washington,  the  general's  man   of  business.      They   were  circulated 
under   the     representation    that    they    were   first    draughts    of   the    letters, 
and    had    been    left    in    the    charge    of    Washington's    colored    valet,    who 
was  ill  at  Fort  Lee,  and  was  left  behind   upon   its   evacuation.      The  letters 
were  mostly  upon  domestic  and    business  subjects,  and  were  artfully  drawn 
to  give  them  an   appearance  of  genuineness.      Mingled   with   other  matters 
were  occasional  allusions  to  subjects  connected  with  the  army  and  the  war,  so 
flippant,  so  selfish  and   heartless    in  tone,   that,    had  they  been  genuine,  or 
generally  believed  so  to  be,  they  must  have    irreparably  ruined   the  general. 
As  it  was,  they  were  not  so  accepted.      The  writers  had  overreached  them 
selves  by  too  hardly  taxing  the  credulity  of  the  world.      People  might  have 
been    made  to  doubt  the  wisdom  and  generalship  of  Washington,  but  they 
knew  him,  his  efforts  and  sacrifices,  too  well  to  believe  him  other  than  single 
hearted   and    truly  patriotic.      The    letters,    too,    have    intrinsic    evidence  of 
spuriousneGS.      The   unlikelihood    of  a  busy    man's    re-writing   letters    to  his 
wife  and   agent;    the    improbability   of  a  wise   man    leaving    compromising 
papers  in  the  hands  of  a  servant,    and  at  an  exposed  fort;  more  than  all,  the 
tone  of  the  letters,  utterly  foreign  to    the    character    of  their  alleged  author 
and  at   varience    with   all  his   public   and   private   utterances,  all    these   con 
siderations  combined  to  defeat   the   design    of  the   contemptible   villain  who 
uttered  the  forgeries.      Who  this  was  has  never  been  discovered,  but   people 
were  not  slow  to  charge   the   cabal   with  the    responsibility,    and   it   reaped, 
whether  or  not  the  seeds  were  of  its  own   sowing,  a  most   unhappy  harvest. 
Save    in    his    private    intercourse    and    correspondence,    Washington    never 
denied  having  written  these  letters,  until  his  final  retirement  from  the  Presi 
dential  chair,  when  he  deemed   himself  free    from   all   chance  of  misconcep 
tion.      Then  he  dismissed  the  subject  with  a  few  words  of  simple    assertion. 
Early    in  the    spring    of  177^,    Washington    had   a   conversation    with 
Wilkinson,  and  laid  before  that  mercurial  officer  the  letters  which  had  passed 
between    himself   and   Gates.      This    drew   from    Wilkinson    the   following: 
"  I  beg  you  to  receive  the  grateful  homage  of  a  sensible  mind  for  your  con 
descension  in  exposing  to  me  General  Gates'  letters,  which  unmask  his   arti 
fices  and  efforts  to  ruin  me.     The   authenticity    of  the    information    received 
through  Lord  Stirling,  I  cannot  confirm,  as   I    solemnly  assure  your  excel 
lency   I    do   not  remember  the  conversation  which  passed  on  that   occasion, 
nor  can  I  recollect  particular  passages  of  that  letter,  as  I    had   but  a  cursory 
view  of  it  at  a  late  hour.      However,  I  so  well   remember  its  general  tenor, 
that,  although    General   Gates   has  pledged  his  word   it   was  a  wicked  and 
malicious  forgery,  I  would  stake  my  reputation,  if  the  genuine  letter  is  pro 
duced,  that  words  to   the  same  effect   would   appear."     A   few    days    later 
Wilkinson,  who  had  been  made  secretary  of  the  board  of  war,  of  which,  as 


166  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

will  be  remembered,  Gates  was  president,  sent  to  the  president  of  Congress 
the  following  communication  : 

«SiR: — While  I  make  my  acknowledgments  to  Congress  for  my  appoint 
ment  as  secretary  to  the  board  of  war  and  ordnance,  I  am  sorry  I  should 
be  constrained  to  resign  that  office ;  but,  after  the  acts  of  treachery  and 
falsehood,  in  which  I  have  detected  Major-general  Gates,  the  president  of 
that  board,  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  reconcile  it  with  my  honor  to  serve 
with  him."  This  is  justly  the  last  heard  of  Wilkinson. 

The  power  of  the  cabal  to  harm  Washington  was  practically  at  an  end. 
Early  in  the  following  campaign  it  was  officially  defeated  by  a  vote  of  Con 
gress.  Washington  dismissed  it  in  a  letter  to  Patrick  Henry,  with  these 
words:  "I  cannot  precisely  mark  the  extent  of  their  views;  but  it 
appeared,  in  general,  that  General  Gates  was  to  be  appointed  upon  the 
ruins  of  my  reputation  and  influence.  This  I  am  authorized  to  say,  from 
undeniable  facts  in  my  possession,  from  publications,  the  evident  scope  of 
which  could  not  be  mistaken,  and  from  private  detractions  industriously 
circulated.  General  Mifflin,  it  is  commonly  supposed,  bore  the  second  part 
in  the  cabal ;  and  General  Conway,  I  know  was  a  very  active  and  malignant 
partisan ;  but  I  have  good  reason  to  believe  that  their  machinations  have 
recoiled  most  seriously  upon  themselves." 

The  remaining  history  of  the  cabal  may  be  very  tersely  summed  up. 
It  had  lost  its  power  and  what  small  amount  of  popularity  it  ever  possessed. 
Congress  transferred  Gates  to  the  command  of  the  Hudson,  and  placed  him 
directly  under  the  orders  of  the  man  whom  he  had  sought  to  humiliate. 
Conway,  who  set  out  for  Canada  with  Lafayette,  and  for  a  time,  remained 
in  command  at  Albany,  was  thence  ordered  to  Peekskill,  and,  in  the  face  of  a 
campaign,  was  again  sent  to  Albany.  After  the  last  mentioned  transfer,  he 
wrote  an  exceedingly  impertinent  letter  to  the  president  of  Congress,  inti 
mating  a  desire  to  resign  his  commission.  To  his  intense  surprise  and  mor 
tification,  he  found  himself  taken  at  his  word,  and  the  most  abject  effort 
upon  his  part  failed  to  secure  him  a  re-instatement.  The  position  of  inspec 
tor-general,  with  the  rank  and  pay  of  major-general,  thus  vacated,  was,  upon 
Washington's  recommendation,  given  to  the  gallant  Baron  Steuben.  After 
leaving  the  army,  Conway  frequently  indulged  in  abuse  of  Washington  and 
his  friends.  This,  on  one  occasion,  gave  offense  to  General  John  Cadwala- 
der;  a  challenge  passed,  a  duel  was  fought,  and  Conway  was  dangerously, 
as  he  supposed,  fatally,  wounded.  Like  many  another  weak  man,  he  was 
ready  and  anxious  to  give  that  justice  upon  his  death-bed,  which  he  had 
refused  when  it  would  have  been  of  value.  Hence,  he  penned  these  lines, 
and  dispatched  them  to  Washington : 

"PHILADELPHIA,  23d  July,  1778. 

"SiR: — I  find  myself  just  able  to  hold  the  pen  during  a  few  minutes,  and 
take  this  opportunity  of  expressing  my  sincere  grief  for  having  done,  written, 


THE    WINTER    AT    VALLEY    FORGE. COJfWAY's    CABAL.  l6/ 

or  said  anything  disagreeable  to  your  Excellency.  My  career  will  soon  be 
over,  therefore  justice  and  truth  prompt  me  to  declare  my  last  sentiments. 
You  are,  in  my  eyes,  the  great  and  good  man.  May  you  long  enjoy  the 
love,  veneration,  and  esteem  of  these  States,  whose  liberties  you  have 
asserted  by  your  virtues. 

''I  am,  with  great  respect,  etc., 

THOMAS  CONWAY." 

Had  Conway  possessed  the  grace  to  die  at  once,  after  writing  these 
lines,  he  might  have  been  forgiven,  as  one  is  apt  to  be,  who  repents  and 
confesses  in  extremis,  but  he  persisted  in  recovering,  and  finding  himself 
universally  avoided  and  held  in  contempt,  sailed  for  France  and  went  out  of 
sight  forever.  With  his  disappearance  we  gladly  dismiss  the  infamous 
intrigue  to  which  he  gave  a  name. 


168  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE  PEACE  COMMISSION— ATTEMPT  AGAINST  LAFAYETTE— THE  FRENCH  ALLIANCE. 

THE  effect  of  the  surrender  of  Burgoyne  upon  the  opinion  of  the  Brit 
ish  Parliament  and  people,  was  effectual  in  decidedly  modifying  the 
tone  adopted  in  discussing  the  American  war.  Not  the  least  cause  of  this 
change  of  heart  could  be  found  in  the  fear  that  France  would  be  led  into 
an  alliance  with  the  colonies.  When,  therefore,  early  in  the  winter,  Lord 
North  presented  his  famous  "conciliatory  bills,"  they  met  but  small  opposi 
tion.  The  principal  argument  used  against  them  was  that  embodied  by  Sted- 
man,  the  British  historian,  in  the  words  :  "If  what  was  now  proposed  was 
a  right  measure,  it  ought  to  have  been  adopted  at  first,  and  before  the  sword 
was  drawn ;  on  the  other  hand,  if  the  claims  of  the  mother  country  over  her 
colonies  were  originally  worth  contending  for,  the  strength  and  resources  of 
the  nation  were  not  yet  so  far  exhausted,  as  to  justify  ministers  in  relinquish 
ing  them  without  a  further  struggle."  Scarcely  had  Lord  North's  resolu 
tions  been  adopted,  when  came  news  from  Versailles  that  confirmed  the 
worst  fears  of  that  statesman.  It  was  to  the  effect  that  Benjamin  Franklin, 
Silas  Deane,  and  Arthur  Lee,  American  commissioners  to  the  court  of 
His  Christian  Majesty,  had  obtained  the  recognition  of  the  independence  of 
the  United  States,  and  that  an  alliance,  offensive  and  defensive,  had  been 
perfected  between  the  greatest  European  rival  of  Great  Britain,  and  her 
revolting  colonies.  The  treaty  stipulated  that,  should  war  ensue  between 
France  and  England,  it  should  be  made  a  common  cause,  that  neither  France 
nor  America  should  make  peace  without  the  consent  of  the  other,  nor 
should  either  lay  down  its  arms  until  the  independence  of  the  colonies 
should  be  established. 

No  sooner  did  the  English  ministry  learn  of  the  conclusion  of  this  treaty, 
than  it  dispatched  post  haste  to  America,  a  copy  of  North's  bill,  intending 
to  pave  the  way  for  the  peace  commission  and  also  to  forestall  the  effect  of 
the  French  alliance.  Immediately  upon  the  arrival  of  the  document  at  New 
York,  Governor  Tryon  had  copies  printed  and  sent  throughout  the  country 
for  circulation.  He  even  had  the  inconceivable  impudence  to  send  copies  to 


THE    PEACE    COMMISSION THE    FRENCH    ALLIANCE.  169 

Washington,  accompanied  by  a  personal  letter  to  the  commander,  requesting 
that  they  be  communicated  to  the  army.  Washington  sent  them,  instead,  to 
Congress,  with  the  comment  that  the  time  for  such  negotiation  had  passed, 
and  that  nothing  short  of  independence  should  form  a  basis  of  peace  negotia 
tions.  Congress  took  the  same  view,  and  determined  in  advance  to  hold  no 
conference  with  the  commission  and  enter  into  no  peace  negotiations,  until 
the  fleets  and  armies  should  be  withdrawn  from  America,  or  the  independ 
ence  of  the  colonies  expressly  recognized.  On  the  following  day,  April  23d, 
Congress  passed  resolutions  recommending  that  the  various  colonies  should 
offer  amnesty  to  such  of  their  citizens  as  had  levied  war  against  the  United 
States  and  should  return  to  their  allegiance  on  or  before  the  i6th  of  June 
following.  Copies  of  these  resolutions  were  printed  in  English  and  Ger 
man,  and  ordered  to  be  distributed  throughout  the  land.  Washington  was 
not  given  to  joking  ;  he  was  naturally  a  serious  man,  and  the  heavy  respon 
sibility  which  he  bore  tended  to  heighten  his  gravity.  We  cannot,  however, 
but  believe,  that,  when  he  penned  the  following  lines  to  Governor  Tyron,  he 
must  have  smiled  at  the  clever  argumoituiti  ad  hominem  which  they  con 
veyed  : 

"SiR:  Your  letter  of  the  i/th  and  a  triplicate  of  the  same,  were  duly 
received.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  drafts  of  the  two  bills  before 
those  sent  by  you  came  to  hand  ;  and  I  can  assure  you  they  were  allowed  to 
have  a  free  currency  among  the  officers  and  men  under  my  command,  in 
whose  fidelity  to  the  United  States  I  have  the  most  perfect  confidence. 
The  enclosed  Gazette,  published  the  24th  at  Yorktown,  will  show  you  that 
it  is  the  wish  of  Congress  that  they  should  have  an  unrestrained  circulation. 
I  take  the  liberty  to  transmit  to  you  a  few  copies  of  a  resolution  of  Congress 
of  the  23d  instant,  and  to  request  that  you  will  be  instrumental  in  communi 
cating  its  contents,  so  far  as  in  may  be  in  your  power,  to  the  persons  who 
are  the  objects  of  its  operations.  The  benevolent  purpose  it  is  intended  to 
answer  will,  I  persuade  myself,  sufficiently  recommend  it  to  your  candor. 

"  I  am,  Sir,  &c. " 

The  manifesto  of  Great  Britain  had  little  or  no  effect  in  moving  the 
public.  In  Rhode  Island,  the  copies  which  came  into  the  colony  were 
burned  under  the  gallows,  by  the  public  executioner;  even-where  its  conces 
sions  were  regarded  as  a  sign  of  weakening,  and  it  defeated  its  o\vn  aims, 
encouraging  the  confidence  of  some  in  every  colony,  who  were  somewhat 
fearful  for  the  result.  Early  in  May  came  the  news  of  the  French  alliance. 
Its  effect  upon  America  was  indescribable.  The  tories  were  dumb  with 
apprehension  ;  the  patriots  wild  with  joy.  Everywhere  bells  rang,  cannon 
pealed,  fires  blazed,  and  all  restraint  was  cast  off,  in  the  universal  delight  of 
the  hour.  At  Valley  Eorge  a  banquet  was  given  by  the  officers  ;  Washing 
ton  was  toasted  and  cheered,  and,  when  at  last  he  left  the  room,  mounted 
his  horse,  and  rode  down  the  lines  to  headquarters,  every  regiment  united  in 


I/O  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

loud  huzzas,  and  he  was  repeatedly  constrained  to  halt  and  uncover,  in  recog 
nition  of  the  spontaneous  tribute.  As  Irving  says:  "Gates  and  Mifflin, 
if  they  were  in  the  camp  at  the  time,  must  have  seen  enough  to  convince 
them  that  the  commander  in  chief  was  supreme  in  the  affections  of  the 
army." 

General  Sir  William  Howe  had  long  been  discontented  with  his  treat 
ment  by  the  British  ministry ;  he  deemed  that  his  recommendations  and 
advice  were  not  respectfully  considered,  and  that  his  requests  for  reinforce 
ments  and  supplies  did  not  elicit  the  prompt  response  which  they  deserved. 
Hence,  during  the  winter  of  1778,  he  tendered  his  resignation  to  the  minis 
ter  of  war;  in  May  he  received  notification  that  the  same  had  been  ac 
cepted,  and,  Sir  Henry  Clinton  being  ordered  to  relieve  him,  he  surrendered 
command  on  the  nth  of  May,  and  departed  for  England.  Later  in  the 
season  Admiral  Lord  Howe  imitated  him,  and  the  maritime  command 
passed  into  other  hands.  There  is  no  question  that  there  was  much  in 
General  Howe's  conduct  of  the  war  to  justify  the  criticisms  that  were  freely 
made  upon  him.  He  lacked  decision  and  activity ;  he  was  prone,  by  his 
easy  habit,  to  fail  of  following  up  an  advantage  to  a  decisive  end.  Again 
and  again  he  might  have  crushed  an  enemy  already  defeated,  but  always 
moved  so  deliberately  as  to  give  time  for  recuperation  and  re  array.  Such 
was  the  case  on  Long  island;  at  Throg's  neck;  at  Brandy  wine.  His  brother 
presented,  in  every  particular,  an  entire  contrast  to  Sir  William,  and  his 
resignation  was  a  great  loss  to  the  British  cause  in  America. 

No  sooner  had  Clinton  taken  command  at  Philadelphia,  than  there  were 
evident  indications  of  a  design  to  abandon  that  city.  He  had,  in  fact, 
received  orders  to  remove  his  army  and  fleet  from  that  place,  as  being  unten 
able  in  the  event  of  the  arrival  of  a  French  fleet;  to  mass  his  army  at  New 
York,  and  to  confine  himself,  for  the  time  being,  to  waging  a  predatory 
warfare  upon  the  adjacent  colonies.  These  instructions  at  such  a  time  were 
foolish  and  blind  to  a  degree  almost  beyond  belief.  England  held  out  with 
one  hand  the  olive  branch  of  peace;  with  persuasive  smile  she  allured  her 
erring  children  to  return ;  in  the  other  she  held  the  scourge,  and,  while  she 
caressed  and  fondled,  bea>t  with  the  most  stinging  of  weapons.  Had  she 
found  the  colonies  ever  so  well  disposed  for  the  dishonorable  peace  pro 
posed,  the  burning  houses,  the  pillaged  farms,  the  bleeding  victims  who  fell 
unarmed  before  the  silent  bayonets  of  her  authorized  robbers  and  marauders, 
would  have  forever  dispelled  the  possibility. 

Receiving  report  of  the  preparations  for  a  movement  from  Philadelphia, 
Lafayette  was  detached  with  twenty-one  hundred  chosen  men,  to  hover  about 
the  city,  obtain  useful  information  regarding  the  movements  of  the  enemy, 
check  his  marauding  parties,  and  be  prepared  to  assail  his  rear  when  the 
evacuation  should  at  length  be  made.  Observing  the  approach  of  Lafay 
ette,  Clinton  determined  to  entrap  him,  and  to  this  end  detached  General 


f 


THE    PEACE    COMMISSION THE    FRENCH    ALLIANCE.  171 

Grant,  with  five  thousand  men.  Lafayette  was  posted  about  eleven  miles 
from  Philadelphia.  Between  him  and  the  main  body  of  the  patriot  army, 
flowed  the  Schuylkill ;  behind  him,  the  road  divided,  leading,  on  the  one 
hand,  to  Matson's  ford,  on  the  other  to  Valley  Forge,  by  way  of  Sweden's  ford. 
He  had  taken  his  position  with  good  judgment,  and  no  precaution  was 
omitted  to  guard  against  surprise.  The  duty  of  guarding  the  road  to  White 
Marsh,  was  committed  to  six  hundred  Pennsylvania  militia,  and  it  was  along 
this  road  that  Grant's  men  made  a  night  advance,  intending  to  get  to  the 
rear  of  the  American  position.  The  militia,  with  characteristic  disregard  of 
orders,  had  moved  to  the  rear,  and  the  road  was  quite  unguarded.  Early 
in  the  morning  Lafayette  was  apprised  of  the  approach  of  the  red  coats,  and 
discovered  that  Sweden's  ford  was  already  held  by  them  in  force.  In  a  very 
short  time  he  was  certain  to  be  hopelessly  surrounded.  His  action  in  this 
emergency  was  cool  and  admirably  well  considered.  He  threw  out  bodies 
of  men  to  appear  before  the  enemy  in  order  of  battle,  as  if  a  regular 
engagement  were  intended.  Grant,  preparing  for  such  an  event,  checked 
his  advance,  and  Lafayette  drew  off  his  main  body  by  Matson's  ford,  his 
advanced  parties  followed  in  safety,  and  the  British  general  appreciated  the 
stratagem  only  in  time  to  reach  the  river  as  the  artillery  was  passing  over, 
and  to  find  Lafayette  so  placed  upon  the  opposite  bank  as  to  forbid  pursuit. 
This  masterly  extrication  of  his  force  from  a  grave  peril,  greatly  raised  La 
fayette  in  the  esteem  of  his  commander  and  of  the  people.  Washington 
and  his  aides,  alarmed  by  the  firing,  had  hastened  from  Valley  Forge  to  a 
hill  upon  the  banks  of  the  Schuylkill,  and,  by  the  aid  of  their  glasses,  were 
witnesses  of  the  peril  and  escape  of  the  force. 

In  the  meantime  the  British  peace  commission  had  arrived  at  Philadel 
phia.  It  was  as  badly  constituted  as  could  well  be  imagined.  A  fashionable 
and  elegant  young  peer — Lord  Carlisle — was  at  its  head ;  associated  with 
him  were  William  Kden,  a  man  of  strong  anti-American  prejudices,  and 
George  Johnstone,  an  opposition  member  of  parliament,  whom  Irving  pro 
nounces  to  have  been  its  most  valuable  member. 

The  commissioners  reached  Philadelphia  on  the  6th  of  June,  and  found 
the  city  in  the  bustle  and  confusion  which  preceded  its  evacuation.  At  this 
they  were  much  chagrined,  as  it  not  only  indicated  that  they  had  not  been 
taken  completely  into  the  confidence  of  the  cabinet,  but  promised  to  weaken 
their  influence  and  put  them  to  much  personal  inconvenience.  Indeed,  John- 
stone  declared  that,  had  he  known  of  the  orders  for  the  evacuation,  he  should 
not  have  undertaken  the  mission.  As  the  event  proved,  all  might  as  well 
have  spared  themselves  the  trouble.  Having  intended  at  first  only  to  com 
municate  to  Congress  an  announcement  of  their  presence  and  readiness  to 
treat,  they  were  compelled  to  hasten  proceedings.  Hence  Clinton  com 
municated  with  Washington,  requesting  a  passport  which  should  permit  the 
secretary  of  the  commission  to  visit  Yorktown,  and  bear  a  letter  to  Con- 


GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

gress.  Not  desiring  to  take  this  responsibility,  Washington  forwarded  the 
request  to  Congress,  and  the  commission,  without  awaiting  a  reply,  sent  to 
that  body  by  post,  copies  of  the  conciliatory  acts,  the  credentials  of  the  com 
missioners,  and  a  letter  intended  to  forward  negotiations.  The  latter  charged 
France  with  being  the  secret  enemy  both  of  England  and  America,  which 
charge  caused  great  excitement,  and  drew  forth  an  answer  which  stated  that 
only  a  desire  to  prevent  an  unnecessary  effusion  of  blood,  could  induce  the 
Congress  to  consider  a  communication  containing  matter  so  disrespectful  to 
the  king  of  France,  but  announcing,  as  well,  a  readiness  to  treat,  when  Great 
Britain,  as  a  pledge  of  her  sincerity,  should  have  withdrawn  her  armies  and 
navy  from  America,  or  expressly  acknowledged  the  independence  of  the 
United  States.  This,  in  effect,  announced  the  failure  of  the  commission,  but 
the  sapient  men  who  composed  it,  were  equal  to  the  folly  of  making  certain 
failure  doubly  sure,  by  attempting  to  bribe  General  Joseph  Reed,  then  a  mem 
ber  of  Congress,  by  the  offer  of  £10,000,  for  "effectual  services  in  their 
behalf,"  and  by  intimating,  in  a  letter  to  Robert  Morris,  that  General  Wash 
ington  and  the  president  of  Congress,  might  be  substantially  remembered 
by  Great  Britain,  did  the  negotiation  prove  effectual.  Reed's  proud  answer 
to  the  proposal,  was:  "I  am  not  worth  purchasing,  but,  such  as  I  am,  the 
king  of  Great  Britain  is  not  rich  enough  to  do  it."  These  offers  and  hints 
coming  to  the  knowledge  of  Congress,  all  communication  with  the  commis 
sioners  was  broken  off.  The  latter  then  turned  their  attention  to  the  people, 
and  published  addresses — one  day  conciliatory,  the  next  full  of  threatenings 
and  slaughter,  but  these  had  no  more  effect  than  had  the  appeals  to  Con 
gress.  Hence  the  agents  of  the  king  came  to  the  wise  conclusion  that,  where 
lead  had  failed  to  intimidate,  words  could  have  but  little  weight,  and  took 
their  departure  for  home,  much  mortified  at  their  signal  failure  either  to  cor 
rupt  or  cajole  America* 


BATTLE    OF    MONMOUTH — COURT-MARTIAL    OF    LEE.  173 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

BATTLE  OF  MONMOUTH-COURT-MARTIAL  OF  LEE 

PENDING  the  negotiation  of  the  commissioners,  Clinton  had  very  much 
reduced  his  force  in  Philadelphia.  A  large  detachment  had  gone  to 
the  West  Indies  for  service  against  the  French  ;  another  had  been  sent  tc 
Florida;  a  large  number  of  troops  had  proceeded  to  New  York  by  water, 
accompanying  the  stores  and  baggage,  and  somewhat  less  than  ten  thousand 
of  the  effective  line  remained.  On  the  I7th  of  June,  Washington  called  3 
council  of  war  to  consult  as  to  the  plan  of  operations  to  be  adopted  in  con 
nection  with  the  evacuation  now  evidently  imminent.  General  Charles  Lee 
had  been  exchanged  by  the  British  for  General  Prescott,  and  took  part  in  the 
council.  Washington  was  decidedly  in  favor  of  an  attack  upon  Clinton. 
His  own  force  was  numerically  greater  than  that  of  the  British  and  he  could 
not  conceive  that  a  better  time  for  striking  an  effective  blow  would  evef 
come.  Lee  was  strongly  opposed  to  any  attack,  holding  that  it  was  very 
unwise  to  run  risl:  of  defeat,  when  the  co-operation  of  France  might  soon 
be  looked  for.  Greene,  Wayne,  and  Cadwalader  held  with  Washington, 
while  Lafayette  took  a  middle  course,  and  advised  a  partial,  but  not  a  general- 
engagement.  Early  in  the  morning  of  the  i8th,  Clinton  began  the  evacua 
tion,  and  by  10  o'clock  his  rear  had  crossed  the  Delaware,  and  was  in  New 
Jersey.  Washington  at  once  detached  a  force  to  annoy  the  enemy's  rear, 
and  another,  under  Arnold,  to  take  possession  of  Philadelphia.  Clinton's 
line  of  march  lay  directly  up  the  Delaware  to  a  point  beyond  Trenton,  and 
Washington  was  obliged  to  make  an  extensive  circuit,  crossing  the  river  at 
Corycll's  ferry,  in  order  to  gain  the  high  ground  of  New  Jersey,  where  he 
might  choose  a  policy  of  action  or  defense.  On  the  25th  of  June,  the  British 
army  was  moving  toward  Monmouth  court  house,  and  Washington  deter 
mined  to  risk  an  engagement  upon  his  own  judgment.  Detachments,  amount 
ing  in  the  aggregate  to  about  four  thousand  men,  were  already  hanging  upon 
the  flanks  and  rear  of  the  enemy.  These  he  reinforced  with  one  thousand 
picked  men  under  Wayne.  The  advance  thus  amounted  to  five  thousand 
men.  Washington  decided  to  place  it  under  the  command  of  a  major-gen 
eral.  The  duty  belonged  of  right  to  Lee,  as  the  ranking  major-general,  but 
he,  having  opposed  an  action,  was  seized  with  a  fit  of  the  sulks,  and  volun- 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

tarily  resigned  the  command  to  Lafayette,  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  the 
commander  in  chief.  Lafayette  proceeded,  with  orders  to  join  the  advance, 
to  give  the  enemy  every  practicable  annoyance,  and  to  attack  his  left  flank 
and  rear  in  force  or  by  detachment,  as  seemed  best.  Scarcely  had  Lafayette 
set  out,  when  Lee,  seeing  that  there  was  to  be  serious  duty,  earnestly 
requested  the  command.  Washington,  desiring  to  do  justice  to  Lee's  claims, 
without  hurting  the  feelings  of  Lafayette,  ordered  the  former  forward  with  a 
reinforcement  of  two  brigades.  His  rank  would  of  course  give  him  command, 
but  he  was  expressly  instructed  not  to  interfere  with  any  plan  which  Lafay 
ette  might  have  already  formed.  In  the  meantime  Washington  moved 
his  main  body  forward,  that  he  might  be  ready  to  support  the  advance  in 
the  case  of  necessity.  Night  fell;  the  enemy  encamped  near  Monmouth 
court  house,  and  Lee  five  miles  distant,  at  Engletown.  Washington  rode 
forward  to  reconnoitre,  and,  seeing  that,  if  Clinton  were  given  time  to  march 
but  ten  miles,  he  would  be  in  a  position  to  make  an  attack  extremely  diffi 
cult,  gave  distinct  orders  to  Lee  to  attack  him  early  in  the  morning.  In  the 
morning  Washington  learned  that  the  enemy  was  in  motion  and  repeated 
his  former  orders  to  Lee.  Skirmishing  began  early,  and  Lee  advanced  to 
the  support  of  the  skirmishing  parties,  leading  about  four  thousand  men. 
Reaching  Freehold,  he  saw  what  he  took  to  be  a  British  covering  party, 
marching  through  the  woods.  He  detailed  Wayne  to  engage  it,  while  he 
should  made  a  circuit  with  the  main  body,  and  cut  it  off  from  the  British 
column.  He  had  made  a  mistake  ;  it  was  not  a  covering  party,  but  the 
whole  rear  division  of  the  British  army.  Washington  was  moving  along 
the  road  toward  Freehold,  when  he  was  apprised,  by  the  sound  of  cannon 
ading,  that  the  battle  had  begun,  and  immediately  made  disposition  to  sup 
port  his  advance. 

Before  making  the  attack,  Lee  had  sent  word  to  Washington  that  he 
was  about  to  engage  a  covering  party  of  the  enemy.  Judge,  then,  of  the 
surprise  of  the  latter,  when  he  met  terrified  stragglers,  then  entire  regiments, 
in  full  retreat.  He  was  dumfounded,  and,  ordering  the  officers,  as  he 
passed,  to  rally  their  men,  spurred  on  at  the  top  of  his  speed.  Arrived  at 
a  rising  ground  near  Freehold,  he  met  Lee,  retreating,  with  the  main  body. 
Let  Irving  tell  what  ensued  : 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this,  sir?  "  demanded  he  in  the  sternest,  and 
even  fiercest  tone,  as  he  rode  up. 

Lee,  for  a  moment,  was  disconcerted  and  hesitated  in  making  a  reply, 
for  Washington's  aspect,  according  to  Lafayette,  was  terrible. 

"I  desire  to  know  the  meaning  of  this  disorder  and  confusion,"  was 
again  demanded,  still  more  vehemently. 

Lee,  stung  by  the  manner,  more  than  the  words  of  the  demand,  made 
an  angry  reply,  which  provoked  still  sharper  expressions,  that  have  been 
variously  reported.  He  attempted  a  hurried  explanation.  His  troops  had 


BATTLE   OF    MONMOUTH COURT-MARTIAL   OF    LEE.  175 

been  thrown  into  disorder  by  contradictory  intelligence  ;  by  disobedience  of 
orders  ;  by  the  meddling  and  blundering  of  individuals  ;  and  he  had  not  felt 
disposed,  he  said,  to  beard  the  whole  British  army,  with  troops  in  such  a 
situation. 

"I    have    certain     information,"   rejoined  Washington,    "that  it   was 
merely  a  strong  covering  party." 

"That  maybe,  but  it  was  stronger  than  mine,  and  I  did  not    think 
proper  to  run  such  a  risk." 

"I  am   very  sorry,"   replied   Washington,    "that  you    undertook  the 
command  unless  you  meant  to  fight  the  enemy." 

"  I  did  not  think  it  prudent  to  bring  on  a  general  engagement." 

"Whatever   your  opinion   may    have  been,"  replied  Washington,  dis 
dainfully,   "  I  expected  my  orders  would  have  been  obeyed." 

All  this  passed  very  quickly.  The  immediate  and  pressing  necessity 
was  to  change  the  fortune  of  the  day.  The  ground  where  Washington 
had  met  Lee  was  favorable  for  a  stand,  being  elevated  and  capable  of 
approach  from  in  front,  only  over  a  narrow  causeway.  The  troops  were 
hastily  formed  upon  the  high  ground,  with  batteries  upon  the  height,  and, 
masked  by  the  woods,  on  the  left,  for  their  support.  Lee  expected  to  be 
relieved,  but  Washington  ordered  him  to  take  command  of  this  position, 
while  he  himself  formed  the  main  body  upon  the  next  elevation. 

A  warm  cannonade  held  the  enemy  for  a  time,  and  Washington  had. 
formed  his  reserve  in  an  advantageous  position  between  \voods  and  a  morass, 
before  Lee  was  directly  assailed.  The  latter  made  a  gallant  resistance,  and 
was  himself  the  last  to  leave  the  ground,  when  obliged  to  give  way ;  his 
troops  retired  in  good  order,  across  the  causeway  leading  to  the  position  of 
the  American  right,  under  command  of  Lord  Stirling.  The  British 
advanced,  but,  finding  themselves  warmly  opposed  by  the  American  front, 
changed  their  tactics  and  made  an  effort  to  turn  the  left,  where  General 
Greene  was  in  command.  Here  again  were  the}'  checked,  Greene's  artillery 
doing  great  execution  upon  them,  and  also  enfilading  the  British  force  in 
front  of  the  left.  General  Wayne,  advancing  with  an  infantry  reserve, 
opened  so  hot  and  well  directed  a  fire  as  to  compel  the  enemy  to  withdraw 
to  the  ground  from  which  they  had  driven  Lee.  Though  this  position  was 
very  strong,  Washington  determined  to  assail  it,  and  advanced  his  artillery 
to  the  causeway,  while  he  detached  forces,  on  either  hand,  to  attack  the 
enemy's  flanks.  The  battle  was  renewed  on  this  ground  with  great  spirit, 
and  was  continued  until  night  fell,  and  left  the  Americans  with  the  advan 
tage  upon  their  side.  Two  hours  more  of  daylight  would  have  been  enough 
to  make  the  result  decisive.  The  American  force  slept  on  their  arms, 
Washington  himself  lying,  wrapped  in  a  blanket,  at  the  foot  of  a  tree,  with 
Lafayette  beside  him.  During  the  night,  however,  the  British,  sending  their 
wounded  in  advance,  deserted  the  field,  and,  as  it  was  certain  that  they 


176  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

must  reach  the  strong  ground  about  Middletown,  before  they  could  be  over 
taken,  and  the  advantage  would  then  be  all  on  their  side,  it  was  deemed  wise 
not  to  attempt  a  pursuit.  The  Americans  lost  in  the  battle  eight  officers 
and  sixty-one  privates,  killed ;  and  one  hundred  and  sixty  wounded.  The 
burying  parties  found  four  British  officers,  and  two  hundred  and  forty-five 
non-commissioned  officers  and  privates,  dead  on  the  field,  and  many  fresh 
graves.  About  one  hundred  prisoners  were  also  taken,  most  of  whom  were 
wounded.  Lafayette  says  of  the  battle  :  "  Never  wras  General  Washington 
greater  in  victory,  than  in  this  action.  His  presence  stopped  the  retreat. 
His  disposition  fixed  the  victory.  His  fine  appearance  on  horseback  ;  his 
calm  courage,  roused  by  the  animation  produced  by  the  vexation  of  the 
morning,  gave  him  the  air  best  calculated  to  excite  enthusiasm." 

The  conduct  of  Lee  had  excited  the  most  decided  disapproval  of  Wash 
ington,  yet  it  is  more  than  likely  that  a  frank  explanation,  on  the  part  of  the 
former,  might  have  smoothed  the  matter  over,  for  he  certainly  was  outnum 
bered,  and  he  afterward  made  the  very  plausible  explanation  that  his  inten 
tion  in  retreating  was  only  to  form  upon  more  advantageous  ground,  and 
that  the  spot  where  he  met  Washington  was  that  which  he  had  selected  for 
his  stand.  He  did  not,  however,  choose  so  wise  a  course,  but,  stung  by  his 
public  rebuke,  wrote  the  commander  in  chief  a  very  impertinent  letter,  call 
ing  for  an  explanation  of  ''the  very  singular  expressions"  used  by  the  latter 
in  their  encounter.  Washington  answered  in  a  dignified  tone,  when  Lee 
replied  in  a  still  more  objectionable  manner,  demanding  an  investigation, 
and  indicating  a  preference  for  a  court-martial,  rather  than  a  simple  court  of 
inquiry.  Washington  promised  to  gratify  this  desire,  and,  at  the  earliest 
moment  caused  the  arrest  of  Lee,  and  preferred  against  him  the  following 
charges : 

First.  For  disobedience  of  orders  in  not  attacking  the  enemy  on  the 
28th  of  June,  agreeably  to  repeated  instructions. 

Secondly.  For  misbehavior  before  the  enemy,  on  the  same  day,  in 
making  an  unnecessary,  disorderly,  and  shameful  retreat. 

Thirdly.      For  disrespect  to  the  commander  in  chief,  in  two  letters. 

A  court-martial  was  at  once  appointed,  and  sat  from  day  to  day,  follow 
ing  the  march  of  the  army,  from  the  4th  of  July  to  the  1 2th  of  August. 
The  testimony  revealed  extenuating  circumstances,  and,  in  the  end,  Lee  was 
found  guilty  upon  all  the  charges,  the  sole  amendment  being  to  strike  out  the 
word  shameful  from  the  second.  He  was  sentenced  to  suspension  for  one 
year,  subject  to  the  approval  of  Congress,  and,  that  body  having  somewhat 
reluctantly  confirmed  the  judgment,  the  sentence  went  into  effect.  Though 
he  had  courted  investigation,  and  had  requested  that  it  be  by  court-martial, 
he  chose,  from  the  moment  of  his  arrest,  to  pose  as  a  persecuted  and 
injured  man.  He  was  loud  and  constant  in  his  abuse  of  Washington,  while 
the  latter,  so  far  as  possible,  avoided  mentioning  his  name  in  public,  and, 


BATTLE    OF    MONMOUTH COURT-MARTIAL    OF    LEE.  I?7 

when  compelled  to  use  it,  spoke  of  him  with  the  greatest  forbearance. 
As  Lee's  name  does  not  again  appear  in  connection  with  the  conduct 
of  the  war,  it  may  be  well  to  dismiss  him,  with  a  few  words  regarding  his 
further  history.  Upon  the  confirmation  of  his  sentence,  he  purchased  and 
retired  to  a  plantation  in  Virginia,  having  previously  been  wounded  by  Col 
onel  Laurens,  one  of  Washington's  aides,  in  a  duel  arising  from  a  particu 
larly  abusive  remark  concerning  the  commander  in  chief.  The  house  in 
which  he  lived  upon  this  plantation,  was  little  more  than  a  shell,  having  no 
partitions  to  divide  it.  Lee,  with  a  grim  humor  which  was  one  of  his  char 
acteristics,  chalked  off  lines  upon  the  floor,  dividing  the  house  into  sleeping 
rooms,  drawing  and  dining  rooms,  etc.,  and,  as  he  said,  had  the  advantage  of 
sitting  in  one  corner  and  overlooking  the  whole,  without  the  trouble  of 
rising.  Becoming  tired  of  a  country  life,  he  made  efforts  to  sell  his  planta 
tion,  and,  while  in  Philadelphia  upon  that  mission,  was  seized  with  a  fever  and 
died.  The  closing  lines  of  his  will  were  these:  "I  desire  most  earnestly 
that  I  may  not  be  buried  in  any  church  or  churchyard,  or  within  a  mile  of 
any  Presbyterian  or  any  Baptist  meeting-house,  for,  since  I  have  resided  in 
this  country,  I  have  kept  so  much  bad  company  while  living,  that  I  do  not 
choose  to  continue  it  when  dead."  He  was,  however,  buried  with  military 
honors  in  the  cemetery  of  Christ  church,  Philadelphia. 


GEORGE    \\ASH1NGTON. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

ARRIVAL  OF  A  FRENCH  FLEET- ATTEMPT  AGAINST  NEWPORT— STONY  POINT. 

\FTER  the  battle  of  Monmouth,  Washington,  apprehending  a  British 
movement  against  the  Hudson,  forced  his  march  in  that  direction, 
coming  to  a  halt,  for  the  purpose  of  resting  his  men,  only  when,  having 
reached  Paramus,  he  learned  that  the  enemy,  dividing  his  army  into  three 
divisions,  had  gone  into  camp  upon  Long  island,  Staten  island,  and  New 
York  island.  It  was  while  still  at  Paramus,  and  on  the  night  of  the  I3th 
of  July,  that  he  received  from  Congress,  notice  of  the  arrival  of  a  French 
fleet,  under  Admiral  the  Count  D'Estaing,  with  directions  to  communicate 
with  the  latter,  and  concert  a  plan  for  co-operation  with  him.  The  fleet 
consisted  of  six  ships  of  the  line  and  twelve  frigates,  and  brought  a  land 
force  of  four  thousand  men.  Leaving  Toulon  on  the  I2th  of  April,  the 
adversity  of  the  wind  had  prolonged  the  passage  to  eighty-five  days.  It 
finally  dropped  anchor,  off  the  mouth  of  the  Delaware,  on  the  8th  of  July, 
just  too  late  to  entrap  the  British  fleet,  which  had  sailed  to  New  York, 
D'Estaing,  immediately  upon  his  arrival,  sent  a  very  courteous  letter  to 
Washington,  from  which  the  following  is  an  extract:  "I  have  the  honor  of 
imparting  to  your  Excellency,  the  arrival  of  the  king's  fleet,  charged  by  His 
Majesty  with  the  glorious  task  of  giving  his  allies,  the  United  States  of 
America,  the  most  striking  proofs  of  his  affection.  Nothing  can  be  wanting 
in  my  happiness,  if  I  can  succeed  in  it.  It  is  augmented  by  the  considera 
tion  of  concerting  my  operations  with  a  general  such  as  your  Excellency. 
The  talents  and  great  actions  of  General  Washington  have  insured  him,  in 
the  eyes  of  Europe,  the  title,  truly  sublime,  of  Deliverer  of  America." 

Accompanying  D'Estaing,  were  the  newly  and  first  appointed  French 
minister  to  the  United  States,  and  Mr.  Silas  Deane,  one  of  the  American 
commissioners  who  had  negotiated  the  alliance.  These  were  sent  up  to 
Philadelphia  in  a  frigate,  and  the  remainder  of  the  squadron  sailed  along  (he 
coast  to  Sandy  Hook,  where,  having  arrived,  D'Estaing  discovered  ;he 


'••"  C 


ARRIVAL    OF    A    FRENCH    FLEET NEWPORT STONY    POINT.  179 

English  fleet  snugly  anchored  in  the  harbor.  The  British  were  very  much 
excited,  and  the  people  of  New  York  city  were,  as  usual,  in  a  condition 
bordering  on  the  hysterical.  All  supposed  that  the  French  armament 
would  engage  the  British  at  once,  and  such  was  D'Estaing's  intention,  until 
he  discovered  that  there  was  not  sufficient  water  on  the  bar  to  permit  of 
the  passage  of  his  heaviest  ships  of  the  line.  Had  such  a  passage  been 
possible,  the  result  would  have  been  one  of  the  most  desperate  battles  in 
history,  for,  the  narrow  limits  of  the  bay  forbidding  any  manoeuvering  for  an 
advantage,  the  fight  must  have  been  one  to  the  death. 

A  frank  and  cordial  correspondence  followed,  between  the  French  com 
mander  and  General  Washington.  The  latter  sent  his  aides,  Colonels 
Laurens  and  Hamilton,  aboard  the  fleet,  and  a  French  officer  returned  the 
civility  by  a  visit  to  the  camp.  This  interchange  of  visits  was  the  means  of 
bringing  about  not  only  a  cordial  feeling,  but  a  clear  understanding  of  the 
plans  to  be  adopted.  An  attempt  upon  New  York  being  deemed  infeas- 
ible,  it  was  determined  to  make  a  concerted  movement  by  land  and  sea 
against  Newport,  Rhode  Island,  then  held  by  the  British  under  General 
Pigot.  To  the  command  of  the  movement  by  land,  General  Sullivan  was 
appointed,  and  at  once  went  on  board  the  fleet  to  concert  measures  with 
D'Estain£f.  It  was  then  arranged  that  the  fleet  should  enter  the  harbor 

t>  £"> 

and  land  French  troops  on  the  west  side  of  the  island,  while  the  Americans, 
under  cover  of  a  frigate,  were  to  attack  from  the  opposite  side.  The  Amer 
icans,  under  Sullivan,  with  Greene  second  in  command,  were  somewhat 
delayed  by  the  non-arrival  of  Massachusetts  and  New  Hampshire  militia, 
and  were  obliged  to  delay  the  movement,  but,  on  the  8th  of  August,  hearing 
that  the  militia  was  near  at  hand,  Sullivan  signalled  the  fleet,  and  the  French 
vessels,  passing  the  batteries  with  little  damage,  entered  the  harbor.  The 
militia,  did  not,  however,  come  just  at  the  time  expected,  and  the  attack 
was  deferred  until  the  next  da}'.  Pigot  had  in  the  meantime  withdrawn  his 
troops  from  the  outer  lines,  and  Sullivan  at  once  took  possession  of  the 
works  so  deserted,  thus,  as  the  event  proved,  offending  the  count's  ideas  of 
military  punctilio.  The  latter  refused  to  answer  Sullivan's  letter  of  explana 
tion,  and  evidently  thought  that  an  effort  had  been  made  to  rob  him  of  his 
share  in  the  enterprise. 

After  the  departure  of  D'Estaing  from  Sandy  Hook,  there  had  arrived 
at  New  York  four  of  twelve  ships  of  the  line,  which  had  been  sent  from 
England  under  Admiral  Byron,  to  reinforce  Lord  Howe,  and  had  been 
scattered  by  storms.  Howe,  though  still  inferior  to  D'Fstaing,  resolved  to 
attempt  the  relief  of  Newport  and,  sailing  at  once,  arrived  off  that  place 
while  D'Estaing  was  still  in  a  state  of  ruffled  dignity,  came  close  to  the 
shore  and  signaled  Pigot,  then  drew  off  to  the  vicinity  of  Point  Sudity,  at  the 
entrance  of  the  channel,  and  lay  to.  D'Estaing,  having  the  wind  in  his 
favor,  sailed  out  to  engage  the  fleet  ;  all  da}'  the  hostile  vessels  manoeuvred 


I8O  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

for  advantage  of  wind  and  position,  and,  at  nightfall,  had  quite  disappeared 
from  sight.  Sullivan  was  thus  left  in  a  most  disagreeable  position.  His 
force  was  not  large  enough  to  attempt  an  independent  attack,  nor  to  be 
quite  safe  in  case  a  sortie  were  made  against  him.  He  determined,  how 
ever,  to  attempt  holding  his  position  until  he  heard  from  the  French  fleet. 

On  the  1 4th,  four  days  after  his  departure,  D'Estaing  re-appeared.  No 
action  had  taken  place,  save  between  some  individual  vessels  of  the  opposed 
fleets.  A  terrific  storm  had  arisen,  and,  Howe  having  retired  to  New 
York  in  a  sadly  shattered  condition,  D'Estaing  had  put  back  to  Newport  in 
a  plight  not  much  to  be  preferred.  He  at  once  dispatched  a  letter  to 
Sullivan,  in  which  he  declared  his  intention,  in  obedience  to  orders,  to  put 
into  Boston  and  refit.  Sullivan  sent  Greene  and  Lafayette  aboard  the  flag 
ship  with  an  answer,  representing  the  certainty  of  carrying  Newport  with 
ease,  and  remonstrating  against  deserting  so  favorable  an  enterprise. 
Expressions  of  good  will  and  of  a  desire  for  harmony  were  added,  but 
D'Estaing  was  bound  by  his  letter  of  instructions,  and  sailed  for  Boston, 
from  which  port  he  later  proceeded  to  the  West  Indies,  taking  no  further 
part  in  the  campaign.  Sullivan  then  attempted  to  raise  five  thousand  New 
England  volunteers,  which  he  deemed  would  justify  him  in  making  an 
assault,  but  the  militia,  disheartened  by  the  departure  of  the  French,  would 
not  respond,  and,  on  the  night  of  the  28th,  he  retired  to  the  northern 
end  of  the  island,  covering  his  rear  and  entrenching.  Early  in  the  morning 
the  British  gave  pursuit,  and  engaged  the  American  rear  guard,  which 
retreated  slowly  and  in  order  to  where  the  main  body  was  drawn  up  in 
array.  The  enemy  took  possession  of  Quaker  hill,  a  mile  from  the  Amer 
ican  lines,  and  the  day  was  spent  until  two  o'clock  in  cannonading  and 
skirmishing.  Then  the  British  advanced  to  an  assault,  attempting  to 
turn  the  American  right.  After  a  sharp  engagement  of  half  an  hour  they 
were  repulsed,  and  retired  to  Quaker  hill,  to  continue  cannonading  during 
the  remainder  of  the  day  and  night.  The  next  day  was  spent  in  the  same 
manner,  and,  on  the  night  of  August  3ist,  Sullivan  withdrew,  unobserved,  to 
the  main  land.  This  retreat  was  made  none  too  soon  for,  on  the  following 
day,  arrived  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  with  force  enough  to  have  annihilated  the 
American  army. 

The  faikire  of  the  movement  against  Newport,  for  which  success  had 
been  confidently  anticipated,  was  very  mortifying  to  all  interested  in  the 
American  cause,  and,  connected  with  this  disappointment,  was  the  grave 
danger  which  menaced  the  good  understanding  of  France  and  America,  by 
reason  of  the  ill  feeling  engendered  by  the  action  of  D'Estaing.  It  required 
all  the  tact  and  address  of  Washington  to  soothe  the  feelings  of  the  officers 
of  the  army  and  the  fleet,  and  to  prevent  a  public  discussion  of  the  respon 
sibility  for  the  failure. 

Washington  wrote  to   D'Estaing  a  very  delicate  letter  regarding  the 


ARRIVAL   OF    A    FRENCH    FLEET NEWPORT STONY    POINT.  l8l 

affair,  in  which  he  said:  "If  the  deepest  regret,  that  the  best  concerted 
enterprise  and  bravest  exertions  should  have  been  rendered  fruitless  by  a 
disaster,  which  human  prudence  was  incapable  of  foreseeing  or  preventing, 
can  alleviate  disappointment,  you  may  be  assured  that  the  whole  continent 
sympathizes  with  you.  It  will  be  a  consolation  to  you  to  reflect  that  the 
thinking  part  of  mankind  do  not  form  their  judgment  from  events  ;  and  that 
their  equity  will  ever  attach  equal  glory  to  those  actions  which  deserve  suc 
cess,  and  those  which  have  been  crowned  with  it.  It  is  in  the  trying  circum 
stances  to  which  your  excellency  has  been  exposed,  that  the  virtues  of  a 
great  mind  are  displayed  in  their  brightest  luster,  and  that  a  general's  charac 
ter  is  better  known  than  in  the  hour  of  victory.  It  was  yours  by  every  title 
which  can  give  it,  and  the  adverse  element  which  robbed  you  of  your  prize, 
can  never  deprive  you  of  the  glory  due  to  you."  This  letter  was  not  merely 
a  politic  salve  to  the  wounded  pride  of  an  all}',  but  an  expression  of  strict 
truth.  D'Kstaing  had  acted  under  orders  which  imperatively  directed  him 
in  case  of  disaster  to  his  fleet  or  the  appearance  upon  the  coast  of  a  superior 
British  armament,  to  retire  for  refitting  or  protection  to  Boston. 

The  remainder  of  the  campaign  of  i/;S  may  be  very  briefly  dismissed. 
Indeed,  from  this  point  it  will  be  unnecessary  and  impossible  to  follow  the 
events  of  the  war  so  closely  as  heretofore.  Washington  was  thenceforth 
devoted  more  to  the  direction  of  the  war,  less  to  the  command  of  troops  in 
the  field  than  before,  and  hence  a  very  general  view  of  events  will  suffice. 
Sir  Henry  Clinton  carried  out  his  orders,  and  waged  a  most  bitter  and  dis 
graceful  predatory  war  against  the  northern  and  middle  colonies.  General 
Grey,  a  cruel  and  bloodthirsty  officer,  who  might  have  adorned  the  army  of 
Nero,  was  the  commander  of  several  expeditions  directed  to  the  capture  of 
stores  and  supplies.  He  always  moved  to  surprise,  and  was  wont  to  com 
pel  his  men  to  remove  the  flints  and  priming  of  their  guns,  and,  should  he 
succeed  in  coming  ui.seen  upon  an  unarmed  and  sleeping  guard  or  escort, 
the  work  of  death  was  thorough  and  silent,  little  quarter  being  ever  given. 
One  of  the  exploits  of  this  class  was  the  surprise  of  three  companies  of  foot 
and  a  troop  of  horse,  belonging  to  the  command  of  Count  Pulaski.  These 
men  were  sleeping  in  their  houses  in  New  Jersey.  Two  hundred  and  fifty 
British  took  advantage  of  information  given  by  a  deserter,  and  ascended  the 
river  by  night,  surrounded  the  houses  and  attacked  the  naked  and  unarmed 
men.  The  official  report  of  Captain  Ferguson,  who  commanded,  tells  the 
result:  "  It  being  a  night  attack,"  said  he,  "little  quarter  of  course  could 
be  given,  sv  tJicre  iccrc  only  five  prisoners.'"  Grey,  the  most  fiendish  of  the 
assassins  who  performed  such  service  for  the  crown,  was  later  elevated  to 
the  peerage,  and  his  son  was  prime  minister  of  England. 

Such  movements  occupied  the  British  regulars  at  the  North.  The  only 
other  important  event  of  the  latter  portion  of  the  campaign,  was  one  well 
fitted  to  be  recorded,  column  beside  column,  with  this  predatory  warfare ; 


1 82  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

that  was  the  descent  from  Canada  upon  the  Wyoming  valley,  and  the  horri 
ble  devastation  that  followed;  savage  Indians  and  more  savage  tories  entered 
the  almost  unprotected  valley,  and,  overpowering  the  hasty  levies  of  old 
men  and  boys,  burned,  robbed,  and  butchered,  tortured  and  outraged,  spar 
ing  neither  childhood  nor  age,  man  or  woman.  The  outrage — the  horrible 
crime — of  that  massacre  lay  at  the  doors  of  the  British  cabinet,  which  allowed 
the  employment  of  such  means  of  war.  The  story  sickens  one  who  reads, 
and  its  deep  disgrace  can  never  be  wiped  from  the  British  escutcheon. 

In  September  Admiral  Byron,  having  collected  and  refitted  his  squad 
ron,  put  to  sea  and  sailed  for  Boston,  hoping  to  entrap  D'Estaing.  He 
found  the  French  admiral  still  in  port,  and  was  preparing  for  an  attack,  when 
he  again  encountered  so  violent  a  storm  as  to  compel  him  to  put  about  and 
take  refuge  at  Newport  for  repairs.  D'Estaing  then  sailed  for  the  West 
Indies,  first  issuing  a  proclamation  to  the  French  inhabitants  of  Canada, 
calling  upon  them  to  resume  their  allegiance  to  the  king  of  France.  Sir 
Henry  Clinton  in  the  meantime  greatly  diminished  his  force  at  New  York, 
by  detachment,  one  large  body  of  troops  being  sent  to  the  West  Indies, 
another,  under  Colonel  Campbell,  who  commanded  in  Florida,  to  co-oper 
ate  with  General  Prevost,  in  the  reduction  of  Georgia.  This  latter  enter 
prise  was  accomplished  in  the  face  of  very  slight  opposition,  and,  with  the 
middle  of  January,  1/79,  closed  the  active  operations  of  the  year.  It  being 
evident  that  the  South  was  to  be  an  object  of  attack  during  the  following 
year,  Major-general  Lincoln  was  assigned  to  command  in  that  department, 
his  splendid  service  in  the  Burgoyne  campaign  having  won  him  unbounded 
confidence. 

Early  in  December,  Washington  placed  his  men  in  winter  quarters,  in  a 
line  extending  from  Long  Island  sound  to  the  Delaware,  so  posted  as  to 
give  the  best  protection  against  the  marauding  of  the  British.  He  per 
fected  an  excellent  code  of  signals,  and,  though  constantly  prepared  for 
action,  passed  the  winter  unmolested.  At  the  close  of  the  campaign  Lafay 
ette  had  expressed  a  desire  to  return,  for  a  time,  at  least,  to  I7 ranee,  as  there 
was  now  certainty  of  war  between  France  and  England.  He  had,  more 
over,  devised  a  plan  for  persuading  France  to  unite  with  America  in  a  grand 
concerted  movement  against  the  Canadian  ports  from  Quebec  to  Detroit, 
thus  wresting  the  Canadas  from  Great  Britain.  Washington  disapproved 
of  this  plan,  for  the  reason  that  it  would  require  more  men,  even  considering 
the  assistance  of  France,  than  the  colonies  could  afford  to  devote  to  such  an 
enterprise,  and,  more  important  still,  recognizing  that  such  an  effort  on  the 
part  of  France  would  be  for  the  conquest  of  Canada,-  a  possibility  which  he 
could  not  but  regard  with  jealousy.  He  communicated  his  fears  to  Con 
gress  and  that  body  declined  to  commit  itself  to  the  plan,  though  it  granted 
the  marquis  an  indefinite  leave  of  absence,  expressing,  at  the  same  time, 
high  appreciation  of  his  services  to  America,  and  the  best  wishes  for  his 


ARRIVAL    OF    A    FRENCH    FLEET NEWPORT STONY    POINT.  183 

success  at  home.  The  young  nobleman,  therefore,  left  America,  much 
regretted  by  all;  most  by  Washington,  to 'whom  he  had  been  so  warmly  and 
faithfully  attached. 

The  winter  wore  away, — very  quickly  to  Washington,  who  was  busy 
and  engrossed.  The  secondary  effect  of  the  alliance  with  France  was 
becoming  apparent,  in  a  fatal  apathy  and  inactivity.  There  was  a  tendency  to 
settle  back  and  view  the  war  in  a  disinterested  manner,  relying  upon  France 
to  carry  it  through.  This  spirit  did  not  alone  prevail  among  the  people  ;  it 
reached  the  hall  of  Congress,  and,  as  usual,  it  became  his  duty  to  arouse 
the  people  and  the  Congress  as  well,  to  a  sense  of  the  very  grave  im 
portance  of  continued  and  even  increased  activity.  During  the  latter  por 
tion  of  the  winter  Washington  was  busy  in  projecting  a  plan  of  operations 
against  the  Indians  and  tories  of  the  North.  His  early  experience  had 
made  him  a  master  in  organizing  and  carrying  on  a  war  of  this  kind,  and  he 
selected  men  and  methods  for  the  service  that  produced  the  best  results,  as 
a  brief  recital  of  the  enterprise  will  show.  The  first  expedition  set  out 
from  Fort  Schuyler  on  the  I9th  of  April,  1779,  and  consisted  of  about  six 
hundred  men.  Hy  a  rapid  march  it  succeeded  in  reaching  the  town  of  the 
Onandagas,  before  any  hint  of  danger  had  come  to  the  Indians,  and  destroyed 
the  entire  town  ;  then  it  returned  to  the  fort  without  the  loss  of  a  man. 
The  second  and  by  far  more  important  movement,  was  conceived  and  exe 
cuted  in  retaliation  for  the  Wyoming  massacre.  Karly  in  the  summer  three 
thousand  men  assembled  in  the  Wyoming  valley,  and,  placed  under  the 
command  of  (ieneral  Sullivan,  penetrated  the  country  of  the  Senecas. 
This  adventure  did  not,  like  the  other,  result  in  a  surprise.  Tories  and 
Indians, — one  thousand  five  hundred  of  the  former  and  some  two  hundred 
of  the  latter — commanded  by  the  very  men  who  had  led  the  Wyoming 
part}',  were  assembled  to  resist  the  advance.  On  the  29th  of  August  a 
battle  was  fought  at  Newton,  which  Sullivan  won  with  ease.  He  then 
pushed  on,  destroying  everything  before  him,  as  far  as  the  (ienesee  river. 
The  Indians  and  tories  took  refuge  with  the  Hritish  garrison  at  Fort  Niag 
ara,  and  Sullivan  returned  to  Pennsylvania,  and,  compelled  by  failing  health, 
retired  from  the  army.  The  third  expedition  of  the  Indian  campaign,  set 
out  from  Pittsburg,  moved  up  the  Allegheny,  and  was  as  successful  as  the 
others.  The  combined  effect  of  all  was  to  whip  both  tories  and  Indians  into 
enforced  submission,  and  it  was  only  at  rare  intervals  and  in  unimportant 
numbers,  that  they  ever  forgot  the  lesson. 

Having  thus  anticipated  events,  in  giving  a  brief  summary  of  operations 
against  the  Indians,  it  is  necessary  to  return  to  the  main  army,  under  the 
command  of  Washington.  The  usual  embarrassments  arising  from  the  faulty 

o  <-* 

organization  of  the  army,  defaults  of  Congress  and  the  colonies  in  paying 
the  men,  disorganized  commissariat  and  quartermasters'  departments,  etc., 
had  been  met  by  the  commander  in  chief,  and  so  far  overcome  that  he  found 


184  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

himself  in  the  spring,  at  the  head  of  a  larger  and  more  effective  army  than 
any  with  which  he  had  ever  opened  a  campaign.  The  war  was  to  be  again 
prosecuted  in  two  quarters ;  the  South  was  evidently  to  be  the  scene  of  one 
campaign  ;  the  North  of  a  second.  Sir  Henry  Clinton's  force,  aside  from  the 
army  of  the  South,  was  not  far  from  seventeen  thousand  men,  all  of  whom, 
save  those  occupying  Rhode  Island,  were  in  New  York.  Against  this  army, 
Washington  had — excluding  the  troops  engaged  in  the  South  and  Sullivan's 
army  which  had  proceeded  against  the  Indians — sixteen  thousand  troops — 
three  thousand  in  Rhode  Island ;  thirteen  thousand  in  cantonments  between 
•jhe  Hudson  and  the  Delaware.  The  force  of  the  armies  was  so  nearly 
equal  that  neither  cared  to  risk  an  engagement,  save  with  a  very  decided 
advantage  of  position,  and,  as  no  such  advantage  was  offered,  the  campaign 
In  the  North  was  from  first  to  last  defensive  on  the  part  of  the  Americans, 
dnd  one  of  detachment  on  the  enemy's  side.  Most  of  the  British 
movements  were  merely  armed  marauds,  so  similar  in  conception  and  detail, 
and  so  numerous  as  to  forbid  description  in  these  pages.  They  were  alike 
In  being  cruel,  bloody,  and  licentious,  involving  little  risk,  and  effecting 
often  nothing  more  than  the  robbery  and  ruin  of  defenceless  persons,  whom 
some  tory  had  denounced  for  adherence  to  the  patriot  cause.  The  principal 
exception  to  this  mode  of  warfare  which  was  the  rule,  was  the  expedition 
undertaken  by  Clinton  against  the  American  forts  upon  the  Hudson.  After 
ihe  destruction  of'  Forts  Montgomery  and  Clinton  in  1777,  ground  had  been 
sought  for  more  secure  defenses,  which  should,  in  fact,  protect  the  great 
water  way  of  the  north  from  hostile  control.  King's  ferry,  at  some  distance 
below  West  Point,  was  selected,  for  the  double  reason  that  it  was  an  important 
strategic  point,  and  one  easily  capable  of  defense.  On  the  west  side  of  the 
river,  rose  Stony  Point,  an  abrupt  and  difficult  promontory,  while  into  the 
stream  from  the  east  bank  extended  Verplanck's  point.  A  small  but  strong 
work  had  been  erected  upon  the  latter,  and  was  garrisoned  by  seventy  men, 
under  Captain  Armstrong.  A  more  extensive  and  important  work  was  in 
process  of  construction  upon  Stony  Point. 

Late  in  May,  Washington  saw  unmistakable  signs  of  an  intention 
on  the  part  of  Clinton  to  move  up  the  Hudson,  no  doubt  primarily 
against  these  twin  forts.  On  the  3Oth  of  May,  Sir  Henry  set  out  from 
New  York,  with  an  armament  of  seventy  sail  and  one  hundred  and 
fifty  flat  boats.  Verplanck's  and  Stony  Points  lay  first  in  his  path, 
but  the  strength  with  which  he  moved,  indicated  to  Washington  that 
some  ulterior  aim  was  in  view.  This  was,  in  truth,  the  case,  his  design 
being  to  capture  and  garrison  those  and  other  strong  posts  in  the  High 
lands,  and  gain  and  hold  control  of  the  Hudson.  On  the  morning  of  the 
3  ist,  Clinton  landed  his  men  in  two  divisions,  one  about  eight  miles  from 
Verplanck's  Point ;  the  other  on  the  western  shore,  about  three  miles  above 
Stony  Point.  The  few  men  in  the  unfinished  works  abandoned  them  at  the 


ARRIVAL    OF    A    FRENCH    FLEET NEWPORT STONY    POINT.  185 

approach  of  the  enemy,  and  the  British  took  possession  in  the  evening  of 
the  3 1st,  dragged  cannon  and  mortars  to  the  summit  during  the  night,  and 
in  the  morning,  opened  a  tremendous  cannonade  upon  Fort  Lafayette,  as  the 
works  upon  Verplanck's  Point  had  beeo  named.  At  the  same  time  the 
vessels  in  the  river  opened  fire  upon  it,  and  the  force  landed  the  day  before, 
approached  it  from  the  rear.  Under  the  circumstances  there  was  but 
one  course  open  to  the  little  garrison, — to  surrender  at  discretion,  and  this 
was  adopted.  Clinton  placed  strong  garrisons  in  both  forts,  and  hastened 
the  completion  of  that  on  Stony  Point.  Washington,  in  the  mean  time,  so 
disposed  his  troops  as  to  render  possible  the  protection  of  West  Point,  and 
prosecuted  the  work  of  strengthening  his  defenses  there  with  no  less  vigor 
than  Sir  Henry  Clinton  devoted  to  those  below.  Finding  the  position  of  the 
Americans  too  strong  to  be  assailed  with  safety,  Clinton  returned  to  New 
York,  and  sent  out  an  expedition  to  ravage  Connecticut,  hoping  to  accom 
plish  the  double  purpose  of  punishing  a  people  who  had  been  especially 
active  in  forwarding  the  Revolution,  and  of  tempting  the  American  force  from 
its  stronghold,  and  laying  the  Hudson  open  to  his  designs.  The  notorious 
tory  governor,  Tryon,  now  holding  a  king's  commission  as  general,  was 
selected  for  the  duty,  and,  with  twenty-six  hundred  men,  set  out,  captured 
New  Haven,  destroying  the  vessels  in  its  harbor,  and  large  amounts  of 
ammunition  and  military  stores,  and  sacked  and  burned  the  towns  of  Fair- 
field  and  Norwalk.  It  was  intended  to  proceed  against  New  London,  but 
the  prospect  of  opposition  was  such,  that  the  force  was  withdrawn  to  the 
sound  to  await  reinforcements.  Washington  had  not  allowed  all  these  out 
rages  to  be  committed,  without  making  an  effort  to  arrest  them.  As  soon  as 
Tryon's  expedition  set  out,  he  had  detached  General  Heath  with  all  the 
men  who  could  be  safely  spared  from  the  Hudson,  to  thwart  the  enemy,  in 
his  unknown  mission,  so  far  as  might  be  possible.  So  great,  however,  were 
the  facilities  for  rapid  movement  possessed  by  the  British,  that  Heath  had 
been  unable  to  accomplish  anything. 

Pending  Clinton's  movement  against  Connecticut,  the  American  com 
mander  planned  no  less  an  attempt  than  the  re-capture  of  Stony  Point 
and  Fort  Lafayette.  This  could  only  be  accomplished  by  surprise,  and  was, 
at  best,  a  very  perilous  undertaking.  Washington  finally  determined  to  take 
the  risk,  and  arranged  his  plan  for  a  night  attack  by  a  body  of  liglu  infantry, 
which  should  advance  in  silence,  securing  the  sentinels  as  they  went. 
For  the  critical  duty  in  hand  he  selected  "  Mad  Anthony  "  Wayne,  to  whom 
such  a  service  was  particularly  grateful.  It  was  arranged  that  the  main 
body  of  the  army  should  follow  Wayne  at  no  great  distance,  prepared  to 
co-operate,  and  that  a  detachment  should  move  down  the  east  bank  of  the 
river,  and  be  in  readiness  to  act  against  Fort  Lafayette,  so  soon  as  Wayne, 
in  case  of  success,  should  turn  the  guns  of  Stony  Point  upon  it. 

About  noon  on    July   I5th,   Wayne   set   out,  from  Sandy  Beach,  at  the 


1 86  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

head  of  about  three  hundred  men.  He  had  a  hard  march  of  fifteen  miles 
before  him,  over  rugged  hills  and  along  the  narrow  passes  of  the  Dunder- 
berg.  It  was  after  nightfall  when,  safe  and  undiscovered,  he  reached  a 
halting  place,  about  two  miles  from  his  objective  point.  Irving  says  that  all 
the  dogs  in  the  neighborhood  had  been  privately  made  way  with:  at 
all  events,  no  one  of  them  gave  the  signal  of  alarm  by  so  much  as  a  single 
bark.  A  half  an  hour  before  midnight,  the  little  party  advanced,  with  fixed 
bayonets,  and  unloaded  guns,  to  meet  victory  or  almost  certain  death,  as 
fortune  might  decree.  Their  guide  was  a  negro,  who  had  been  many  times 
to  the  post,  ostensibly  to  sell  fruit.  With  him  were  two  strong  men,  dis 
guised  as  farmers.  The  countersign  was  given  to  the  first  sentinel,  and, 
while  the  negro  talked  with  him,  he  was  seized,  bound,  and  gagged.  Not  a 
sound.  The  troops  were  delayed  at  the  morass,  which  was  to  be  crossed 
before  the  ascent  could  be  begun.  Then  the  men  were  divided  into  two 
columns,  each  with  a  forlorn  hope  before  it,  which  was  charged  with  remov 
ing  the  abatis  upon  the  hill-side.  Not  until  the  Americans  were  close  upon 
the  outworks  of  the  fort,  was  their  approach  discovered;  then  there  was 
sharp  skirmishing,  the  British  making  the  noise  with  their  muskets ;  the 
Americans  doing  the  execution  with  their  bayonets.  The  alarmed  garrison 
sprang  to  arms,  and  opened  a  tremendous  fire  upon  their  assailants,  with 
grape  and  musketry.  They  were,  however,  forced  back.  The  gallant  Fleury 
struck  the  flag.  Wayne  received  a  shock  from  a  spent  ball,  which  struck 
him  in  the  head,  and  gave  him  all  the  sensations  of  a  fatal  wound.  Stagger 
ing,  and  about  to  fall,  he  was  caught  by  a  soldier,  when  he  exclaimed : 
"  Carry  me  into  the  fort,  and  let  me  die  at  the  head  of  my  column! "  Such 
spirit  as  .was  shown  by  every  officer  and  man  in  the  little  attacking  party, 
was  too  much  for  the  garrison,  who  surrendered  at  discretion.  At  day 
break,  the  guns  of  the  fort  were  turned  upon  the  shipping,  when  the  vessels 
cut  their  cables  and  dropped  down  the  river  to  a  place  of  safety.  Some 
one  blundered  in  the  conduct  of  the  party  which  moved  against  Fort  La 
fayette,  and,  though  the  fort  was  vigorously  cannonaded,  there  was  no  co 
operation,  and  it  was  not  captured. 

The  storming  and  capture  of  Stony  Point  is  justly  esteemed  one 
of  the  most  brilliant  achievements  in  the  War  of  Independence,  and, 
in  boldness  of  device,  and  bravery  of  execution,  compares  favorably 
with  any  like  occurrence  in  history.  The  very  unlikelihood  of  success 
was  the  salvation  of  the  plan ;  it  seemed  so  nearly  impossible  of  accom 
plishment,  that  the  British  were  lulled  to  a  false  security,  which  was 
their  ruin.  One  of  the  last  and  most  graceful  acts  of  Charles  Lee,  was 
to  write  a  letter  to  Wayne,  acknowledging  the  exceeding  brilliancy  of 
his  exploit,  and  warmly  congratulating  him  upon  it.  This  compliment  has 
an  especial  significance,  when  it  is  stated  that  Wayne  was  one  of  the  most 
damaging  witnesses  before  the  court-martial  that  tried,  condemned,  and 


ARRIVAL   OF    A    FRENCH    FLEET — NEWPORT — STONY    POINT.  l8/ 

sentenced  Lee.  Not  the  least  honorable  feature  of  the  affair  was,  that, 
though  the  Americans  had  received  so  great  provocation,  not  a  sol 
dier  of  the  garrison  was  killed  or  injured,  after  he  ceased  to  resist. 
The  re-capture  of  Stony  Point  had  the  effect  of  checking  the  movement 
against  Connecticut.  Clinton  recalled  the  force  which  had  been  detailed 
for  that  purpose,  and  again  moved  up  the  Hudson  to  regain  his  lost 
ground,  and  compass  an  engagement  with  Washington,  if  such  were  prac 
ticable.  Again  the  prudent  policy  of  the  American  commander  confounded 
the  enemy.  Finding  that  he  could  not  maintain  the  fort  at  Stony  Point, 
with  less  than  fifteen  hundred  men,  which  was  a  greater  number  than  he 
could  afford  to  detach,  Washington  dismantled  the  works,  removed  the 
artillery  to  West  Point,  and  himself  retired  thither  with  his  army,  before 
the  advance  of  Clinton.  The  latter,  not  deeming  it  best  to  follow,  returned 
to  New  York. 

Passing  by  the  abortive  attempt  of  New  England  partisans,  to  sur 
prise  the  British  at  Penobscot,  and  the  brilliant  achievement  of  "Light- 
Horse  Harry"  Lee,  who  surprised  the  British  post  at  Paulus  Hook, 
and  took  one  hundred  and  fifty-nine  prisoners,  with  the  loss  of  two  men,  it 
is  necessary  to  dismiss  the  campaign  with  a  few  words.  Early  in  the 
autumn,  Clinton  was  reinforced  by  the  arrival  of  a  fleet,  under  Admiral 
Arbuthnot,  bringing  three  thousand  fresh  troops.  About  the  same  time 
came  news  that  the  Count  D'Estaing  had  arrived  off  the  coast  of  Geor 
gia,  with  a  powerful  fleet,  fresh  from  victories  won  in  the  West  Indies.  A 
combined  movement  against  New  York  was  again  projected.  Clinton 
abandoned  Rhode  Island  and  the  Hudson  posts,  and  massed  his  entire  army 
in  and  about  New  York  city.  At  the  same  time,  Washington  made  a  call 
for  militia,  which  he  concentrated  in  considerable  numbers,  to  act  with  the 
army  in  co-operation  with  D'Estaing.  The  latter,  however,  decided  to  act 
with  Lincoln,  for  the  recapture  of  Savannah.  An  investment,  by  regular 
approaches,  followed ;  the  works  were  stormed,  and  the  American  flag 
twice  placed  upon  them,  but  each  time  the  assailants  were  driven  back,  and 
finally  gave  up  the  effort,  D'Estaing  having  lost  six  hundred  killed,  and 
Lincoln  nearly  four  hundred,  while  the  garrison  escaped  with  very  small  loss. 
D'Estaing  at  once  put  to  sea;  his  fleet  was  crippled  by  a  storm  ;  he,  with 
part  of  his  ships,  returned  to  Erance ;  the  remainder  to  the  West  Indies. 
This  news  reached  the  American  camp  in  November;  Washington  dismissed 
his  militia,  dispatched  the  troops  of  Virginia  and  the  Carolinas  to  the  South ; 
placed  a  detachment  of  the  army,  under  General  Heath,  in  the  Highlands, 
and  took  the  main  body  into  winter  quarters  at  Morristown,  New  Jersey. 
In  the  meantime,  the  Southern  army,  under  Lincoln,  was  in  sad  need  of  the 
aid  which  Washington  had  sent.  After  the  defeat  at  Savannah,  it  had 
crossed  into  South  Carolina,  and  against  that  colony,  especially  the  city 


1 88  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

of  Charleston,  Sir  Henry  Clinton  and  Lord  Cornwallis  sailed,  on  the  26th 
of  December,  with  several  thousand  men,  in  transports,  convoyed  by  five 
ships  of  the  line,  and  a  number  of  frigates.  Knyphausen  was  left  in  com 
mand  at  New  York. 


SIEGE   AND    FALL   OF   CHARLESTON — TARLETON'S    BUTCHERY. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

SIEGE  AND  FALL  OF    CHARLESTON-TARLETON'S  BUTCHERY. 

IT  is  now  necessary  to  glance  very  briefly  at  the  campaign  in  the  South, 
which,  as  Washington  had  no  personal  part  in  it,  is  only  of  collateral 
significance.  Lincoln  was  in  command  at  Charleston,  when  General  Clin 
ton  arrived  at  Tybec  bay,  on  the  Savannah,  in  the  latter  part  of  January. 
On  the  nth  of  February,  the  greater  part  of  the  British  army  landed  at  a 
point  thirty  miles  below  Charleston,  leaving  the  fleet  to  make  a  circuit  by 
sea  and  appear  before  the  city,  while  the  army  marched  by  land.  The 
enemy  advanced  slowly,  fortifying  many  points  as  he  went,  and  taking  the 
further  precaution  to  direct  the  forwarding  of  reinforcements  from  Savannah 
and  New  York.  Charleston,  standing  upon  an  isthmus  between  the  Ashley 
and  Cooper  rivers,  was  weakly  garrisoned,  but  Lincoln  took  every  means  to 
strengthen  its  defences.  He  connected  the  two  rivers,  above  the  citv,  b\*  a 

o  J  J 

canal ;  beyond  this  he  placed  two  rows  of  abatis  and  a  picketed  ditch,  and, 
between  the  canal  and  the  main  works,  threw  up  redoubts,  so  placed  as  to 
flank  an  approaching  enemy.  The  Governor  at  Charleston  gave  orders  for 
the  mustering  of  the  militia,  and  a  small  squadron  of  armed  vessels  was  in 
the  harbor,  to  co-operate  with  Forts  Moultrie  and  Johnston,  for  its  defence. 
On  the  1 2th  of  March  Clinton  arrived,  and  posted  his  army  upon  Charles 
ton  neck,  a  few  miles  from  the  town.  This  condition  of  affairs  being  com 
municated  to  Washington,  he  ordered  the  troops  of  Maryland  and  Delaware, 
with  a  regiment  of  artillery,  to  reinforce  Lincoln. 

The  next  point  in  the  British  plan  was  to  bring  the  vessels  of  the  fleet 
into  the  harbor,  and  thus  be  in  a  position  to  rake  the  batteries  of  the  town. 
The  defence  of  Charleston  really  depended  upon  the  prevention  of  this 
movement,  and  the  existence  of  a  difficult  bar  at  the  entrance  of  the  harbor 
made  it  a  very  hazardous  one,  in  the  face  of  opposition.  The  American 
commodore,  Whipple,  finding,  by  soundings,  that  he  could  not  anchor 
within  three  miles  of  the  bar,  gave  up  the  idea  of  defending  it,  and 


1 9O  GEORGE   WASHINGTON, 

retired  to  a  position  in  line  with  the  forts.  Admiral  Arbuthnot  effected  the 
passage  on  the  2Oth  of  March,  having  removed  his  guns  to  lighten  the 
vessels,  and  lay  within  the  bar,  engaged  in  replacing  his  artillery.  Then 
was  the  time  when  Charleston  should  have  been  evacuated,  for  its  defence 
was  hopeless,  but  a  letter  from  the  commander  in  chief,  intimating  the  desir 
ability  of  abandoning  the  town  in  such  an  event,  had  been  detained,  and 
came  too  late  to  influence  Lincoln,  who  prepared  for  defence,  and  the 
American  vessels-of-war  were  sunk  in  line  across  the  Cooper  river. 

The  British  were  reinforced  from  Savannah,  before  the  arrival  of 
the  anxiously  expected  Northern  troops.  On  the  pth  of  April,  Clin 
ton  completed  his  first  parallel,  within  eight  hundred  yards  of  the  Amer 
ican  lines,  and,  on  the  same  day,  Arbuthnot  sailed  past  Fort  Moultrie, 
with  little  loss,  and  anchored  inside,  out  of  range  of  the  guns  of  either 
fort.  Lincoln  was  then  summoned  to  surrender,  but  returned  a  firm 
refusal.  About  the  same  time  General  Woodford,  with  seven  hundred  Vir 
ginia  troops,  passed  into  the  city,  from  the  north,  by  the  only  remain 
ing  way.  On  the  I4th,  Clinton  detached  Tarleton  and  Lieutenant-colonel 
Webster  to  surprise  the  American  cavalry,  which  served  to  keep  open  com 
munication  with  the  city.  The  party  met  with  a  signal  success,  killing  or 
capturing  one  hundred  of  the  Americans,  dispersing  the  remainder  on  foot, 
and  capturing  four  hundred  horses.  This  completed  the  investment,  and 
placed  retreat  out  of  the  question,  yet  Lincoln  persisted  in  maintaining  the 
lines,  and  the  British  seemed  content  to  proceed  by  approaches.  Thus  the 
siege  wore  on,  Lincoln  having  no  substantial  reason  for  hope,  but  deter 
mined  not  to  surrender  so  long  as  he  might  obtain  delay.  The  garrison  was 
much  fatigued,  and  many  had  been  killed;  supplies  were  not  abundant;  the 
guns  were  many  of  them  dismounted,  and  when,  on  May  7th,  the  British 
gained  possession  of  Mount  Pleasant,  and  compelled  the  surrender  of  Fort 
Moultrie,  it  seemed  that  resistance  had  ceased  to  be  wise.  By  May  I2th, 
the  third  parallel  was  completed,  within  twenty  yards  of  the  American 
works.  These  were  three  miles  in  extent,  and  to  man  them  Lincoln  had 
but  about  one  thousand  troops,  many  of  which  were  militia.  On  the  I2th, 
the  citizens  of  Charleston  presented  a  petition,  urging  Lincoln  to  surrender, 
and  terms  of  capitulation  being  proposed  on  the  same  day,  he  accepted 
them.  The  town  and  all  stores  passed  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  The 
garrison,  and  such  citizens  as  had  assisted  in  the  defence,  became  prisoners 
of  war ;  the  militia  was  paroled.  The  garrison  was  required  to  march  out 
and  lay  down  their  arms,  before  the  fort,  but  no  humiliation  was  attached  to 
the  surrender.  The  British  lost,  during  the  siege,  seventy-six  men  killed, 
and  one  hundred  and  seventy-six  wounded ;  the  casualties  of  the  Americans 
were  not  far  from  the  same  number.  The  fall  of  Charleston  was  a  great 
advantage  to  the  British,  as  it  was  a  most  serious  loss  to  the  Americans. 
The  city  was  the  principal  mart  of  the  South,  and  its  fate  seemed  likely  to 


SIEGE    AND    FALL    OF    CHARLESTON TARLETON'S    BUTCHERY.  ig± 

be  decisive  of  that  of  all  the  country  about.  With  Savannah  already  con 
quered  and  Georgia  secured,  Charleston  added  to  these,  and  the  service  of  a 
moderate  army  employed  in  encouraging  loyalists  and  intimidating  whigs, 
Clinton  was  confident  of  reducing  to  submission,  the  South,  from  Virginia  to 
the  Gulf,  and,  beyond  mere  submission,  he  had  hopes  of  so  arousing  the 
1  'yalty  of  the  tories,  as  to  derive  positive  support  and  assistance  from  that 
quarter. 

Immediately  after  the  surrender  Clinton  formed  another  plan.  Colonel 
Buford,  having  set  out,  with  three  hundred  and  eighty  Virginia  troops  and 
two  fceld-pieces,  for  the  relief  of  Charleston,  and  finding  himself  too  late  to 
be  of  service,  had  begun  a  retreat  to  North  Carolina.  On  the  way  he  \va.s 
joined  by  a  remnant  of  Colonel  Washington's  cavalry,  which  had  escaped  the 
surprisalbyTarleton.  Clinton  dispatched  a  detachment  under  Cornwallis  to 
pursue  and  capture  this  little  force.  Buford  had  a  considerable  advantage  in 
the  start,  and  as  he  moved  rapidly,  Cornwallis  advanced  Colonel  Tarleton  in 
pursuit,  with  one  hundred  and  seventy  dragoons  and  one  hundred  mounted 
infantry.  It  required  more  than  a  night  and  a  day  of  forced  march,  during 
which  many  horses  perished  and  the  men  suffered  exceedingly  with  the 
heat,  for  Tarleton  to  come  within  twenty  miles  of  Buford's  party.  With 
the  intention  of  delaying  the  march  of  the  retreating  Americans,  he  then 
sent  forward  a  messenger  bearing  the  following  letter : 

"  SIR: — Resistance  being  vain,  to  prevent  the  effusion  of  blood,  I  make 
offers  which  can  never  be  repeated.  You  are  now  almost  encompassed  by 
a  corps  of  seven  hundred  light  troops  on  horseback;  half  of  that  number 
are  infantry,  with  cannons.  Earl  Cornwallis  is  likewise  within  reach,  with 
nine  British  regiments.  I  warn  you  of  the  temerity  of  further  inimical  pro 
ceedings."  The  letter  closed  with  an  offer  to  Buford,  of  the  same  terms 
which  had  been  given  at  Charleston.  That  officer  read  the  letter,  kept  the 
messenger  in  conversation  for  some  time,  without  a  halt,  then  returned  the 
following  answer : 

"SiR: — I  reject  your  proposals,  and  shall  defend  myself  to  the  last 
extremity.  I  have  the  honor,  &c." 

In  the  meantime  Tarleton  had  continued  to  press  forward,  and  came  up 
with  Buford's  rear  at  about  3  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  The  Americans  had 
not  looked  for  so  early  an  arrival  of  the  enemy,  and  were  in  a  measure  sur 
prised.  Buford  made  an  effort  to  draw  his  men  off  at  the  right  of  the  road 
and  form  them,  while  his  advance  hurried  on  with  the  baggage.  He  was, 
however,  but  ill  prepared  for  the  impetuous  charge  of  Tarleton's  cavalry, 
and  most  of  his  men,  after  firing  one  hasty  and  ineffective  volley,  threw 
down  their  arms  and  called  for  quarter.  To  what  degree  this  prayer 
was  granted,  may  be  judged  by  the  fact  that  one  hundred  and  thirty  were 
killed  on  the  spot,  one  hundred  and  fifty  so  mangled  and  maimed  that  they 
were  left  on  the  field  by  the  victors,  and  only  about  fifty,  nearly  all  wounded, 


lg2  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

were  made  prisoners.  The  advanced  guard  of  about  one  hundred  infantry 
escaped,  as  did  Colonel  Buford,  with  a  few  of  the  horses.  The  affair  was 
nothing  but  a  wanton  and  indiscriminate  butchery.  Tarleton  explained  it 
by  saying  that,  he  having  been  unhorsed  at  the  first  fire,  his  men  thought 
him  killed,  and  were  so  exasperated  that  they  had  finished  their  work 
before  he  could  remount.  Cornwallis  approved  of  the  affair,  and  recom 
mended  Tarleton  for  promotion,  but  the  world  has  always,  and  justly,  held 
him  to  have  been  a  murderer.  The  facts  that  Buford's  field-pieces  were  not 
discharged,  and  that  Tarleton's  loss  was  but  five  men  killed,  and  fifteen 
wounded,  seems  to  more  than  justify  this  view  of  the  case. 

Immediately  upon  receiving  news  of  the  fall  of  Charleston  and  the  cap 
ture  of  Lincoln,  Washington  had  desired  to  place  the  command  of  the  South 
in  the  hands  of  General  Greene,  an  officer  in  whose  discretion  and  bravery 
he  had  the  most  implicit  confidence.  Congress,  however,  interfered  and,  as 
usual,  made  a  faux  pas,  appointing  Gates  to  the  duty.  Gates  was  without 
command  and  accepted  the  service  very  eagerly,  though  Lee  gave  him  a 
prophetic  warning  to  beware  that  his  northern  laurels  did  not  change  to 
southern  willows.  At  the  time  of  his  appointment  to  the  command,  the 
troops  of  Maryland  and  Delaware,  under  the  veteran  De  Kalb,  were  still  in 
North  Carolina,  the  difficulty  of  subsisting  the  army  and  uncertainty  as  to 
orders,  having  made  their  march  a  slow  one.  The  remaining  force  in  the 
Southern  colonies  was  mostly  included  in  a  body  of  North  Carolina  militia, 
under  General  Caswell,  and  a  body  of  about  eight  hundred  brave  South 
Carolina  volunteers  who  had  chosen  their  friend  and  neighbor  Colonel 
Thomas  Sumter,  to  command  them. 

Gates  reached  De  Kalb's  camp  on  the  25th  of  July  and  took  command 
of  the  little  army.  He  at  once  made  a  serious  mistake,  by  ordering  an 
advance,  on  the  2/th,  upon  roads  which  the  heat  and  lack  of  subsistence  had 
prevented  either  De  Kalb  or  Cornwallis  from  attempting  until  after  the  har 
vest  had  been  gathered  and  cooler  weather  came.  His  men  suffered  every 
thing  from  hunger,  thirst,  and  heat.  He  effected  a  junction  with  Caswell 
and  on  the  1 3th  of  August,  took  possession  of  Rugely's  Mills,  without  oppo 
sition  from  Lord  Rawdon,  who  commanded  during  Cornwallis'  absence  at 
Charleston.  Rawdon  withdrew  to  Camden.  On  the  day  of  his  arrival  at 
Clermont,  Gates  was  reinforced  by  seven  hundred  Virginia  militia,  under 
Brigadier-general  Stephens,  who  had  served  in  the  campaign  of  1777-78. 
He  also  learned  from  Sumter  that  an  escort  of  supplies  for  the  British,  at 
Camden,  must  shortly  pass  the  Wateree,  at  a  ferry  about  a  mile  distant  from 
the  town,  which  ferry  was  protected  by  a  redoubt.  He  reinforced  Sumter 
"with  one  hundred  regulars  and  gave  him  orders  to  intercept  the  train,  at  the 
same  time  determining  himself  to  cover  the  enterprise  by  a  demonstration 
against  Camden.  He  estimated  his  force  for  this  service  at  seven  thousand, 
and,  upon  being  informed  by  the  assistant  adjutant-general,  that  he  had  a  line 


SIEGE    AND    FALL    OF    CHARLESTON TARLETON'S    BUTCHERY.  193 

of  but  three  thousand  and  fifty-two  effectives,  he  carelessly  answered: 
"There  are  enough  for  our  purpose.''  Such  was  the  man  who  had  sought 
to  supplant  Washington !  Gates  advanced  in  order,  flanked  on  either  side 
by  light  infantry,  the  Maryland  division,  with  Virginia  and  North  Carolina 
militia  and  artillery  forming  the  main  body  and  the  rear. 

Cornwallis  had,  in  the  meantime,  learned  of  the  presence  of  a  considera 
ble  body  of  Americans,  and  had  resumed  command  at  Camden.  On  the 
very  night  when  Gates  moved  upon  Camden,  he  set  out  to  attack  the  Ameri 
cans  at  Clermont,  and,  at  half  past  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  August 
1 6th,  the  advance  parties  of  the  two  armies  met,  to  their  mutual  surprise. 
Gates  was  soon  informed  by  prisoners  taken  in  the  first  skirmish,  that  he 
was  confronted  by  Cornwallis  and  the  whole  British  force.  He  might  then 
have  retired  in  safety,  made  a  junction  with  Sumter,  chosen  a  more  fitting 
time  and  place  for  engaging  the  enemy,  and,  perhaps,  have  been  successful, 
but  he  would  not  adopt  the  Fabian  policy  of  Washington,  and  remained  on 
the  ground  to  expose  his  few  regulars  and  undisciplined  militia  to  the 
veterans  of  Cornwallis.  The  result  was  what  might  have  been  expected. 
The  British  attacked  him  in  the  morning  on  equal  ground.  His  militia  for 
the  most  part  broke  and  fled  like  sheep,  pursued  by  Tarleton's  dreaded 
cavalry.  He  strove  in  vain  to  check  them,  and  sent  officers  who  endeavored 
with  no  better  success  to  overtake  and  form  them  to  cover  a  retreat.  Gates 
thought  that  his  whole  aimy  had  fled,  and  retired  with  those  about  him  to 
Charlotte.  De  Kalb's  regulars  had,  however,  stood  their  ground,  after  the 
whole  center  and  left  had  deserted  them.  In  this  position,  outnumbered 
and  outflanked,  they  fought  like  tigers,  long  after  all  hope  of  success  had 
disappeared.  De  Kalb  was  on  foot  with  the  Maryland  brigade,  and  fell  in 
the  arms  of  his  aide-de-camp,  with  eleven  wounds,  from  which  he  died  in  a 
few  hours.  Then  Cornwallis  attacked  the  two  devoted  brigades  with  the 
bayonet,  at  last  breaking  and  scattering  them.  The  defeat  was  hopeless  and 
complete.  The  American  army  was  absolutely  broken  up.  Sumter  had 
succeeded  in  his  venture,  and,  learning  of  Gates'  defeat,  made  a  forced  march 
with  the  captured  train  to  a  place  some  distance  from  the  field,  where  he 
thought  it  safe  to  halt  and  rest  his  men.  During  the  halt  Tarleton  made 
one  of  his  sudden  descents,  and,  before  the  Americans  could  reach  their 
arms,  completely  scattered  them  and  re-captured  the  train.  The  Americans 
lost  two  hundred  wagons  and  nearly  all  their  baggage,  stores,  small  arms, 
and  cannon.  The  loss  in  men  was  very  heavy,  British  authorities  stating  it 
to  have  been  between  eight  hundred  and  nine  hundred  killed,  and  one 
thousand  prisoners,  which,  however,  doubtless  exceeds  the  truth.  The 
enemy  lost  but  three  hundred  and  twenty-five  killed  and  wounded. 

As  a  result  of  the  reckless  folly  of  General  Gates,  there  was  no  longei 
an  American  army  in  the  South  ;  only  a  few  scattered  and  hunted  fugi- 


194  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

tives,  without  shelter,  arms,  or  food,  and  there  seemed  to  be,  indeed,  no 
further  hope  for  Virginia,  the  Carolinas,  or  Georgia. 

Gates  retired  to  Salisbury,  thence  to  Hillsborough,  to  collect  so  much 
of  his  scattered  force  as  possible,  and  await  reinforcements. 

Two  other  expeditions  had  been  sent  into  the  Carolinas  at  the  same 
time  as  that  headed  by  Cornwallis,  but  neither  saw  any  service.  Both  found 
almost  uniform  readiness  to  submit,  and  their  march  was  but  little  more 
than  a  holiday  progress.  The  negroes  joined  them,  conceiving  themselves 
absolved  from  service ;  the  tories,  always  cowards  save  when  in  the  presence 
of  scarlet  cloth,  were  loud  in  rejoicing ;  the  doubtful  element  was,  as 
usual,  well  affected  to  the  successful  party,  and  the  real  patriots  who  were 
either  serving  elsewhere,  or  on  parole,  were  so  few  and  scattered  as  to  be  an 
imperceptible  element  in  the  problem.  Clinton  felt  so  confident  that  he 
released  all  prisoners  save  those  at  Charleston  and  Moultrie,  from  their 
paroles,  and  subjected  them  to  the  obligation  of  service  in  the  royal  cause. 
Then  on  the  5th  of  June,  he  sailed  for  New  York  with  a  portion  of  the  army 
leaving  Cornwallis,  with  the  rest,  to  push  the  war  through  North  Carolina 
and  Virginia. 


,-—> 


BATTLE   OF    KING'S    MOUNTAIN — GATES    RELIEVED    BY    GREENE.  19: 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

BATTLE  OF  KING'S  MOUNTAIN-  GATES  RELIEVED  BY  GREENE. 

CORNWALLIS  regarded  the  South  as  reduced  beyond  the  fear  of 
resistance  by  the  defeat  of  Gates  and  the  death  of  l)e  Kalb.  He 
settled  himself  at  Camden  for  the  recuperation  of  his  army,  issued  a  proc 
lamation,  calling  upon  the  loyalists  of  North  Carolina  to  arm  and  cut  off  the 
retreat  of  the  remnant  of  Gates'  army,  and  dispatched  Major  Patrick  Fer 
guson,  a  brave  and  skillful  tory  partisan,  to  keep  the  war  alive  upon  the 
western  borders  of  the  province.  Ferguson's  force  numbered  between 
eleven  hundred  and  twelve  hundred  men,  light  infantry  and  royal  militia,  of 
his  own  levying  and  training,  and  they  constituted  a  very  formidable  corps 
for  partisan  warfare.  He  was  directed  to  skirt  the  mountain  country  be 
tween  the  Catawba  and  the  Yadkin.  harass  the  whigs,  inspirit  the  tories  and 
embody  the  militia  under  the  royal  banner.  This  done,  he  was  to  move 
to  Charlotte,  where  Corn \\allis  would  be  in  waiting,  prepared  for  new  and 
more  important  movements.  Having  carried  out  his  instructions,  Ferguson 
was  returning  to  Charlotte  to  rejoin  Cormvallis,  when  he  learned  that  a  force 
of  American  partisans,  under  Colonel  Elijah  Clarke,  of  Georgia,  was  retreat 
ing  towards  the  mountains  of  North  Carolina.  His  own  strength  had  been 
largely  increased  by  the  drawing  of  tories  to  his  standard,  and  he  could  not 
resist  the  temptation  to  attempt  the  cutting  off  of  Clarke.  Consequently, 
he  pushed  through  the  narrow  and  steep  defiles  of  the  mountains,  and  took 
Y>ost  at  a  small  frontier  village,  called  Gilberttown.  He  was  confident  that 
no  force  existed,  or  could  be  raised,  which  could  face  him  with  an}'  possi 
bility  of  success.  In  this  he  was  deceived.  The  marauds  of  his  men  had 
aroused  the  whole  mountain  region  to  fury.  As  a  British  writer  says: 
"All  of  a  sudden,  a  numerous,  fierce  and  unexpected  enemy,  sprung  up  in 
the  depths  of  the  desert.  The  scattered  inhabitants  of  the  mountains 
ass  imbled,  without  noise  or  warning,  under  the  conduct  of  six  or  seven  of 


IQC5  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

their  militia  colonels,  to  the  number  oi  six  hundred  strong,  daring,  well- 
mounted,  and  excellent  horsemen." 

Ferguson  took  alarm  and  began  a  retreat.  The  frontiersmen  collected 
by  twos,  threes  and  half-dozens  at  Gilberttown,  and  soon  nine  hundred 
of  their  best  mounted  men  set  out  in  pursuit,  leaving  their  comrades  to  fol 
low.  The  first  evening  they  halted  at  the  Cow  pens.  Early  in  the  morning 
they  again  took  the  march,  moving  toward  King's  mountain,  twelve  miles 
distant,  and,  when  they  had  proceeded  nine  miles,  learned  that  Ferguson 
had  taken  a  strong  position  upon  that  eminence.  His  men  were  extended 
along  the  level  ridge  which  forms  its  summit,  and  their  commander  had 
boasted  that  "if  all  the  rebels  out  of  hell  should  attack  him  they  would  not 
drive  him  from  it."  The  Americans  dismounted,  tied  their  horses,  divided 
into  three  nearly  equal  divisions,  and  prepared  to  scale  the  heights  from  three 
sides.  Their  fighting  directions  were  very  simple :  the  men  were  to  fire  at 
will,  and  with  good  aim,  as  rapidly  as  possible.  If  unable  to  hold  their 
ground,  they  were  to  retire  to  cover,  re-form,  and  again  advance,  but  never 
to  entirely  desert  the  field.  The  movements  were  delayed  some  time  that 
they  might  be  simultaneous.  Then  the  left,  commanded  by  Cleveland,  drew 
the  first  fire  from  the  enemy,  at  about  4  o'clock.  Almost  immediately  after, 
the  centre,  commanded  by  Colonel  Campbell,  came  into  action,  deployed 
behind  trees  and  fences,  and  answered  the  heavy  volleys  of  the  enemy 
with  most  deadly  effect. 

Ferguson  made  a  sally  and  began  driving  Campbell's  force  down  the 
mountain ;  almost  immediately,  one  of  the  other  bodies  opened  a  flanking 
fire ;  he  turned  his  attention  to  that,  and  had  forced  it  to  give  way,  when 
the  third  appeared,  and  he  found  Campbell  re-formed  and  advancing.  So 
he  fought  first  one  division,  then  another,  always  meeting  a  fresh  and  confi 
dent  enemy  at  every  turn;  the  Americans,  being  below  him,  could  fire 
without  injuring  each  other,  and  it  seemed  that  every  bullet  told.  Still  he 
held  his  ground  bravely,  until  the  field  was  strewn  with  dead ;  his  men, 
no  longer  able  to  endure  the  terrible  fire,  broke ;  he  endeavored  to  rally 
them  and  was  shot  from  his  horse.  Then  his  second  in  command  beat  a 
parley  and  begged  for  quarter,  and  the  fight  was  over.  The  Americans 
lost  twenty  men  killed  and  many  wounded,  and  the  enemy  lost  one  hundred 
and  fifty  killed,  an  equal  number  wounded,  and  eight  hundred  and  ten  cap 
tured.  On  the  following  day  a  court-martial  was  held,  a  few  of  the  most 
bitter  tories  captured,  were  hanged,  in  retaliation  for  similar  action  on  the  part 
of  Cornwallis,  then  the  men  dispersed  to  their  homes,  as  quietly  and  mysteri 
ously  as  they  had  assembled,  not  feeling  that  they  had  performed  any  very 
remarkable  exploit,  yet  they  had,  in  fact,  turned  the  whole  tide  of  war  in 
the  South.  Cornwallis,  who  had  intended  reducing  North  Carolina,  then 
forcing  a  junction  with  the  detachment  sent  by  Howe  to  Virginia,  became 
alarmed  for  his  own  safety  and  for  the  security  of  Georgia  and  South  Caro- 


BATTLE    OF    KING'S    MOUNTAIN GATES    RELIEVED    BY    GREENE.  197 

lina,  and  gave  up  his  plans  of  aggression.  On  the  I4th  of  October  following 
the  battle,  he  began  his  weary  and  perilous  retrograde  march.  Hungry, 
footworn,  fired  upon  from  every  copse  and  cover,  it  required  two  weeks  for 
his  army  to  reach  and  cross  the  Catawba,  and  take  position  at  YYinns- 
borough,  South  Carolina. 

The  remainder  of  the  autumn  and  the  early  winter  were  occupied  by  the 
British  in  most  vexatious  and  costly  warfare.  General  Francis  Marion,  with 
his  handful  of  hardy  partisans;  Sumter  at  the  head  of  his  irrepressible  fol 
lowers, — one  or  the  other  of  these  was  always  in  the  field,  or  at  least  threat 
ening  to  take  the  offensive.  Tarleton  was  sent  against  Marion ;  the  latter, 
finding  himself  outnumbered,  kept  his  stronghold.  Tarleton  adopted  the 
ruse  of  dividing  his  men  into  small  bodies,  and  so  disposing  them  that  they 
might  be  speedily  reunited.  This  proved  successful;  Marion,  whom  his  ene 
mies  called  the  "Swamp  Rat,"  came  out  of  his  hole,  Tarleton  concentrated 
his  forces,  drove  the  Americans  from  one  swamp  to  another,  inflicting  some 
damage,  and  considered  their  destruction  certain,  when  came  word  from 
Cornwallis  to  return  to  his  assistance,  as  Sumter  was  in  the  field.  So,  giving 
up  his  smaller  quarry  for  more  important  game,  Tarleton  returned,  attacked 
Sumter,  attempted  to  carry  a  log  barn  in  which  some  of  the  Americans  had 
taken  refuge,  and  was  repulsed,  with  heavy  loss  of  his  best  men,  in  killed 
and  wounded.  Night  came  on,  and  he  retired  to  a  place  of  safety,  while 
Sumter's  men  disbanded,  and  were  far  enough  away  when  it  was  sought  to 
avenge  the  defeat  of  Tarleton.  The  Americans  lost  but  seven  killed. 
This  is  but  an  example  of  the  daily  vexation  of  Cornwallis,  by  bodies  of 
men  too  large  to  be  ignored;  too  small  and  nimble  to  be  met  according  to 
ordinary  rules  of  war.  If  he  sent  out  foragers,  they  found  the  farmers 
posted  behind  trees  and  fences,  and  bought  with  blood  the  food  for  which 
the  patriots  disdained  to  accept  gold  ;  his  dispatches  were  intercepted; 
his  stragglers  cut  off,  and  his  command  was  one  of  constant  worry  and 
irritation. 

Gates  had,  in  the  meantime,  collected  the  sad  remnant  of  his  army  at 
Charlotte.  He  was  crushed  by  a  defeat  which  he  could  not  but  acknowledge 
was  the  result  of  his  own  folly  and  negligence.  There  was  little  about  him 
of  the  old  self-confidence  and  vanity.  Soon  after  entering  winter  quarters, 
he  received  news  of  the  death  of  his  only  son,  and,  while  this  wound  was 
still  fresh,  came  notification  that  he  had  been  superseded  in  command  by 
General  Greene.  In  this  unhappy  complication  of  troubles,  he  received  a 
letter  from  General  Washington,  condoling  with  him  upon  the  loss  of  his 
child,  and  referring  to  his  military  reverses  in  terms  so  considerate  and  deli 
cate  as  to  quite  unman  him.  It  is  related,  by  Irving,  that,  after  reading  this 
letter,  "Gates  was  found  walking  about  his  room  in  the  greatest  agitation, 
pressing  the  letter  to  his  lips,  breaking  forth  into  ejaculations  of  gratitude 
and  admiration,  and  when  he  could  find  utterance  to  his  thoughts,  declared 


lCj8  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

that  its  tender  sympathy  and  considerate  delicacy  had  conveyed  more  con 
solation  and  delight  to  his  heart,  than  he  had  believed  it  possible  ever  to 
have  felt  again."  It  is  more  than  likely  that  he  was  moved  as  much  by 
remorse  at  his  former  injustice  to  Washington,  as  by  gratitude  at  the  noble 
and  characteristic  utterances  of  the  man  he  had  wronged.  On  the  2cl  of 
December,  1780,  Greene  arrived  at  Charlotte  and  took  command  of  the 
army.  Upon  his  way  southward  he  had  made  provision  for  the  strengthen 
ing  and  sustenance  of  the  force  in  the  Carolinas,  and  for  the  protection  oi 
Virginia  from  hostile  attack.  He  came  charged  by  Congress  not  only 
with  the  command  of  the  army,  but  with  the  delicate  duty  of  providing  for 
a  court  of  inquiry  into  the  conduct  of  General  Gates.  Greene,  himself  a 
man  of  sensibility,  had  probably  received  from  Washington  some  hints  as 
to  his  conduct.  Certain  it  is,  he  behaved  with  the  greatest  delicacy  and 
thoughtfulness  toward  the  double  misfortunes  of  his  predecessor.  Calling 
a  council,  it  was  determined  that  there  were  not  enough  general  officers  in 
camp  to  constitute  a  proper  court  of  inquiry  ;  that,  considering  the  recent 
family  affliction  of  General  Gates,  it  would  be  highly  indecorous  and  indeli 
cate  to  force  him  into  an  investigation,  which  he  could  not  honorably 
postpone;  that  prima  facie  evidence  indicated  that  he  had  been  more 
unfortunate  than  criminal,  hence,  considering  all  the  circumstances,  noth 
ing  should  for  the  time  be  done  in  the  matter,  and  that  Congress  be 
urged  to  reverse  its  decision.  Such  kindness  and  magnanimity  are  almost 
unparalleled  in  military  history,  as  the  army  is  too  often  marked,  instead,  by 
the  virulence  of  its  personal  enmities  and  jealousy.  Gates  was  completely 
overcome.  He  had  regarded  Greene  with  coldness,  if  not  with  stronger 
feeling.  From  this  time  he  was  one  of  the  warmest,  most  affectionate 
friends  of  Greene,  as  he  was,  ever  after,  of  the  commander  in  chief. 
The  Virginia  General  Assembly  appointed  a  committee  to  wait  upon  Gates 
and  express  to  him  the  sympathy  and  respect  of  that  body,  and  with 
heart  touched  and  comforted  by  these  indications  of  good  will,  he  left  the 
army  and  retired  to  his  farm  in  Berkeley  county. 

The  force  which  Greene  found  awaiting  him,  was  little  more  than  an 
apology  for  an  organization.  It  numbered  but  two  thousand  three  hundred 
men ;  these  were  undisciplined,  disorganized,  depressed,  and  showed,  in 
every  particular,  the  inevitable  result  of  such  a  defeat  as  they  had  suffered. 
The  country  about  Charlotte  was  so  exhausted  by  repeated  foragings,  that 
he  determined  to  divide  his  force,  and  seek  fresh  and  more  hopeful  ground 
for  their  encampment.  To  this  end  he  sent  one  portion,  under  General 
Morgan,  to  the  district  of  Ninety  Six,  in  South  Carolina,  and  with  the  other 
himself  made  a  toilsome  march  to  Hick's  creek,  in  the  Chesterfield  district, 
and  there  took  position. 


ARRIVAL    OF    RoCiiAMBEAU TREASON    OF    ARNOLD. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

ARRIVAL  OF  ROCHAMBEAU— TREASON  OF  ARNOLD. 

THE  winter  at  Valley  Forge  has  been  described;  that  at  Morristown, 
then,  needs  no  description.  There  was  the  same  want,  nakedness, 
and  death;  the  winter  was  the  coldest  ever  known  in  New  Jersey.  So  cold 
was  it,  that  the  remainder  of  the  Hritish  fleet  at  New  Vork  was  imprisoned 
by  ice,  and  an  army  with  heavy  cannon  might  have  marched  across  either 
river  to  attack  the  city.  The  pay  of  the  American  soldiers  was  greatly  in 
arrear,  in  some  cases  the  men  having  received  no  money  for  five  months; 
when  paid  it  was  only  in  Continental  scrip,  which  was  so  far  depreciated, 
that  three  months  pay  of  a  soldier  would  not  buy  a  bushel  of  wheat,  and  an 
officer  did  not  receive  as  much,  in  purchasing  power,  as  would  a  teamster, 
paid  in  English  money.  Provisions  were  so  scant}'  that  meat  was  often 
entirely  lacking,  and,  when  it  came,  some-  officers  lived  for  weeks  upon  bread 
and  cheese,  that  they  might  not  lessen  the  rations  of  the  private  soldiers. 
In  the  midst  of  these  embarrassments  Congress  reorganized  the  commissary 
department,  upon  such  a  basis  as  to  leave  it  still  less  efficient,  and,  soon 
afterwards,  the  commissar}'  general  gave  notice  to  the  commander  in  chief, 
that  he  could  no  longer  supply  the  army  with  meat,  as  he  had  no  money, 
and  his  credit  was  exhausted.  In  this  emergency  Washington  was  again 
compelled  to  call  upon  each  of  the  counties  of  the  State  to  supply  for  the 
army  a  certain  fixed  quantity  of  provisions.  If  these  were  forthcoming  by 
a  given  day,  their  value  was  to  be  appraised  by  a  committee,  consisting  of 
two  magistrates  from  the  count}'  interested,  and  the  commissary-general, 
and  warrants  given  for  the  payment  of  the  same.  If  not  so  received,  or  fur 
nished  in  sufficient  quantities,  then,  it  was  announced,  that  enough  to  make 
up  the  proportion  of  each  county  would  be  impressed,  and  paid  for  accord 
ing  to  value,  estimated  in  the  same  manner.  To  the  credit  of  New  Jersey, 
which  had  been  greatly  impoverished  by  supporting  the  armies  of  king  and 
colonies  alike,  it  should  be  said  that  the  requisitions  of  the  general  were 


2OO  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

almost  uniformly  met,  several  counties  exceeding  the  amount  demanded. 
Forages  were  made  by  the  British  during  the  winter  in  various  directions 
from  New  York,  for  their  own  condition  was  far  from  comfortable.  The  ice 
had  cut  off  the  means  of  supplying  the  army  by  water,  and  fuel  was  so 
difficult  to  be  obtained,  that  old  vessels  and  empty  houses  were  destroyed 
for  fire.  The  Americans  could  have  captured  the  city,  had  their  army  been 
in  a  condition  for  service.  As  it  was,  Lord  Stirling  made  a  demonstration 
against  twelve  hundred  British  who  were  encamped  upon  Staten  island, 
at  the  head  of  twice  that  number  of  men,  but  the  enemy  learned  of  his  com 
ing,  and,  retiring  to  their  works,  sent  to  New  York  for  reinforcement,  so  that 
nothing  was  accomplished. 

Spring,  while  it  alleviated  the  sufferings  of  the  army,  did  not  remove 
the  embarrassment  of  its  commander,  who,  with  but  a  handful  of  men 
under  him,  was  compelled  to  provide  for  the  protection  of  the  North  against 
Knyphausen  ;  to  consider  the  defence  of  the  South,  and,  at  the  same  tiroe, 
to  provide  as  best  he  might,  against  the  ever  present  possibility  of  a  rapid 
movement  by  water,  and  the  formation  of  a  junction  of  both  hostile  armies 
against  whichever  branch  of  his  own  might  be  weaker.  In  the  face  of  all, 
there  seemed  little  promise  of  success  in  recruiting ;  the  depreciation  of  the 
currency  stood  as  a  bar  in  the  way  of  every  movement  for  the  betterment 
of  the  condition  of  affairs.  Recognizing  the  root  of  the  trouble,  Washing 
ton  wrote  the  president  of  Congress  :  '  *  It  were  devoutly  to  be  wished  that 
a  plan  could  be  devised  by  which  everything  relating  to  the  army  could  be 
conducted  on  a  general  principle,  under  the  direction  of  Congress.  This 
alone  can  give  harmony  and  consistency  to  our  military  establishment,  and 
I  am  persuaded  it  will  be  infinitely  conducive  to  public  economy."  This 
letter  provoked  a  very  warm  debate,  which  reached  a  climax  when  it  was 
proposed  to  appoint  a  committee  of  three  persons  who  should  visit  the 
camp,  and,  in  connection  with  the  commander  in  chief,  devise  means  for  the 
improvement  of  the  military  system  of  the  country.  Of  the  reception 
given  this  proposal,  Irving  says:  "  It  was  objected  that  this  would  put  too 
much  power  into  a  few  hands,  especially  into  those  of  the  commander  in 
chief;  that  his  influence  was  already  too  great,  that  even  his  virtues  afforded 
motives  for  alarm  ;  that  the  enthusiasm  of  the  army,  joined  to  the  kind  of 
dictatorship  already  confided  to  him,  put  Congress  and  the  United  States  at 
his  mercy;  that  it  was  not  expedient  to  expose  a  man  of  the  highest  virtue 
to  such  temptations."  This  jealousy  of  one  man  power  was  very  charac 
teristic  of  the  day,  and  that  the  distrust  extended  even  to  Washington, 
shows  how  vigorous  was  American  republicanism,  even  in  its  swaddling 
clothes.  The  committee  was,  however,  appointed;  and  consisted  of  Gen 
eral  Schuyler,  John  Mathews,  and  Nathaniel  Peabody.  As  a  result  of  the 
investigation,  Congress  pledged  itself  to  make  up  to  the  soldiers  the  differ 
ence  between  the  nominal  and  the  actual  value  of  their  pay,  and  to  consider 


ARRIVAL    OF    ROCHAMBEAU TREASON    OF    ARNOLD.  2OI 

all  payments  theretofore  made,  as  simply  applying  on  the  gross  indebtedness 
to  each.  Thus,  at  last,  there  was  a  prospect  for  placing  the  army  upon  an 
efficient  footing. 

Early  in  May,  Washington  received  a  letter  from  the  Marquis  de  La 
fayette,  announcing  his  arrival  at  Boston,  and  that  he  would  at  once  push  on 
to  headquarters.  The  commander  was  greatly  affected  when  he  received  this 
welcome  announcement,  and,  upon  the  arrival  of  Lafayette,  folded  the  young 
officer  in  his  arms  in  the  most  affectionate  manner, — an  act  of  demonstra 
tive  affection  quite  foreign  to  his  custom.  The  newcomer  could  not  long 
remain  with  his  older  friend,  for  he  was  the  bearer  of  important  tidings — that 
a  French  fleet,  under  Chevalier  de  Tcrnay,  was  to  put  to  sea  early  in  April, 
bound  for  service  in  America,  and  convoying  a  fleet  of  transports  bringing 
a  land  force,  under  the  Count  de  Rochambeau.  Having  communicated 
this  glad  news,  he  at  once  hastened  to  Philadelphia,  to  report  the 
same  to  Congress,  while  Washington  turned  his  attention  to  preparing 
for  co-operation  with  the  allies  against  New  York.  At  his  suggestion, 
Lafayette  had  dispatched  letters  to  Rochambeau  and  Tcrnay,  apprising 
them  of  Washington's  opinion,  that  a  campaign  against  that  point  would 
be  advisable,  and  requesting  them  to  make  with  all  speed  for  Sandy  Hook. 
Washington  had  little  fear  that,  with  the  slender  garrison  and  small  naval 
force  at  New  York,  he  could  have  trouble  in  capturing  that  city,  by  the  aid 
of  the  French.  His  principal  anxiety  arose  from  the  inefficiency  of  his  own 
army,  and  he  turned  all  his  energies  to  finding  a  remedy. 

Washington's  first  knowledge  of  the  surrender  of  Charleston,  was  con 
veyed  on  June  1st,  by  a  hand-bill,  circulated  in  New  York,  and,  almost  at 
the  same  time,  he  was  informed  that  a  fleet  of  about  one  hundred  war  ves 
sels  and  transports  had  appealed  at  Sandy  Hook.  This  latter  he  took  to  be 
a  portion  of  the  British  force  which  had  been  employed  in  the  South,  and 
his  fear  for  the  safety  of  the  Hudson  was  aroused.  He  soon  learned,  how 
ever,  that  the  report  regarding  the  flotilla  was  false  ;  but,  on  the  6th  of 
June,  came  news  that  the  British  were  landing  at  Elizabethtown  point,  for 
an  incursion  into  New  Jersey.  Knyphauscn  had,  in  fact,  received  exag 
gerated  reports  of  the  discontents  of  the  American  army,  and  deemed  that 
a  timely  demonstration  might  draw  largely  from  its  ranks,  and  also  lead  to 
the  re-establishment  of  British  influence  in  the  Jerseys.  He  had  made  a 
grand  mistake  in  accepting  these  reports  at  their  face  value.  No  sooner  was 
his  intention  manifest,  than  signal  guns  and  fires  gave  warning,  and,  along 
every  road,  by  twos  and  threes,  hurried  the  hardy  yeomanry  of  the  colony, 
to  the  danger  stations.  At  Connecticut  Farms  he  met  his  first  opposition. 
This  amounted  only  to  a  momentary  stand;  the  British,  with  artillery 
and  reinforcements,  soon  broke  the  provincial  line,  and  revenged  its 
temerity  by  sacking  and  burning  the  village.  During  this  barbarous 
retaliation,  Mrs.  Caldwell,  wife  of  a  fighting  chaplain  in  the  American  army, 


2O2  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

while   sitting   in  a  house,  with   her   children   beside   her,  was   killed   by  two 
musket  balls  discharged  through  an  open  window.      Yet  this  expedition  had 
for  one  of  its  objects,  the  bringing  of  New   Jersey  colonists  back  to  fealty 
to  the  crown  !     The  death  of  Mrs.  Caldwell  drove  many  a  doubtful  yeoman 
to  the  rebel  ranks,  and   the   British  paid   for   her  life  a  hundred  times  over. 
Springfield,  on  the  road  to  Morristown,  had  been  made  the  rallying-point 
of  the  American  army.     There  was  posted  in  advance,  General  Maxwell,  with 
his  brigade  and  the  levies  of  the  vicinity,  while   on   the   heights  behind,  was 
Washington,  with  the  main  body  of  the  army.      Knyphausen  halted,  recon- 
noitered,  and  very  wisely  turned  about,   and  made   the  best  of  his  way  to 
Elizabethtown    point,    his    place    of    debarkation.       There    he    lingered,    in 
indecision,  sending  a  portion  of  his  troops  across   the  channel ;   then  recall 
ing  them.      On  June  i8th,   Clinton,  with   a  portion  of   his   southern   army, 
actually  arrived  at  New  York,  and  Washington,  leaving  behind  Greene,  and 
Henry  Lee,  with  his  light  horse,  began  a  weary  march  toward  the  Highlands. 
He  had   advanced   but  a   short   distance,  when   he  received   news   that  the 
enemy    was  again   moving  from   Elizabethtown,    whereupon   he    sent    rein 
forcements  to  Greene,  and,  himself,  fell  back  to  a  point  where  he  might  at 
once  watch  the    Hudson,  and   be  in  a  position  to  co-operate  with  the  Jersey 
troops.      Knyphausen,    five    thousand   strong,    with    cavalry    and    artillery, 
moved  forward,  in   two  columns,  one  by  each  road   leading  from  Elizabeth- 
town    to    Springfield.      Both   roads   were  guarded   by    American  advanced 
parties,  while  a  bridge  over  the  Rahway,  a  little  west  of  the  town,  wras  held 
by    Colonel    Angel,   \vith   two    hundred    picked   men    and    artillery.      The 
remainder  of  the   army  was  thrown   upon  high  ground  in  the   rear  of  the 
town.     Lee  was  obliged  to  retire  his  advanced  party  from  the  Vauxhall  road, 
after  making  a  sharp  defense  ;  the    British  left  was  met,  and  held  with  great 
determination,    by    Colonel    Dayton,  while    Angel   at  the  bridge,    opposed 
the  vastly   superior  force   of  the   enemy  for  more  than   an    hour,  and   until 
above  one-fourth   of  his  men   had  been   either  killed  or  wounded.      Greene 
finally  withdrew  to  stronger  ground,  in   the  rear   of  Springfield,  where  the 
two  roads  approached  each  other  more  nearly,  and   permitted  of  his  guard 
ing  both,   without   presenting  so   extended  a  front.      Knyphausen  saw  that, 
should  he  gain  Morristown,  it  would  be  after  fighting  every  inch  of  the  way, 
and  at  the  cost  of  many  men ;  hence,  having  sacked  and  burned  Springfield, 
he  retired,  on   the  night   of  the   23d,    to   Elizabethtown,  having  lost  many 
more  men  than  had  the  Americans  ;  having  gained  nothing  but  more  bitter 
enmity  for  himself  and  his  British  employers.      By  6  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
his   rear  had   reached   Staten  island,  and   the   last   British   mission  to  New 
Jersey  was  at  an  end. 

The  evident  design  of  Howe  was  to  menace  Washington  in  several  direc 
tions,  and  the  latter  soon  became  convinced  that  the  enemy  would  not  imme 
diately  take  any  active  steps  against  him.  Hence,  he  so  placed  his  force  as 


MAJOR    ANDKH. 


ARRIVAL    OF    ROCHAMBEAU — TREASON    OF    ARNOLD.  203 

to  be  able  readily  to  move  it  to  any  endangered  point,  removed  his  stores  to 
more  secure  depots,  and  set  about  the  tedious  and  difficult  task  of  procuring 
the  increase  of  his  army.  On  the  loth  of  July  a  portion  of  the  promised 
French  fleet  reached  Providence,  Rhode  Island,  under  command  of  Cheva 
lier  de  Ternay.  It  consisted  of  seven  ships  of  the  line,  two  frigates  and  two 
bombs.  The  remainder  of  the  fleet  had  been  detained  at  Brest  by  lack  of 
transports  for  the  troops  which  accompanied  it.  Convoyed  by  De  Ternay's 
squadron,  were  somewhat  more  than  five  thousand  troops,  under  command  of 
Count  de  Rochambeau,  with  the  Marquis  tie  Chastellux  second  in  command. 
The  army  was  largely  officered  by  young  members  of  the  nobility  of  France, 
who  were  attracted  by  the  romantic  and  adventurous  nature  of  the  service 
in  a  new  country.  Through  the  intervention  of  Lafayette,  it  had  been 
arranged  that  Rochambeau  should  place  himself  under  the  orders  of  Wash 
ington,  and  that  the  place  of  the  French,  when  serving  with  the  American 
troops,  should  be  on  the  left  of  the  line,  thus  preventing  the  possibility  of 
jealousy  or  misunderstanding. 

Rochambeau  only  waited  to  collect  fuel  and  forage,  before  landing  his 
army,  which  he  placed  in  a  fortified  camp  without  the  town.  The  fleet 
remained  in  the  harbor,  its  temporary  inferiority  to  that  of  the  English  for 
bidding  offensive  measures.  Washington  was  much  mortified  that  the  con 
dition  of  his  army  prevented  immediate  and  effective  co-operation  with 
Rochambeau,  and  thus  wrote  the  president  of  Congress:  "Pressed  on  all 
sides  by  a  choice  of  difficulties,  I  have  adopted  that  line  of  policy  which 
suited  the  dignity  and  faith  of  Congress,  the  reputation  of  these  States  and 
the  honor  of  our  arms.  Neither  the  season  nor  a  regard  for  decency,  would 
permit  delay.  The  die  is  cast,  and  it  remains  with  the  States  either  to 
fulfil  their  engagements,  preserve  their  credit  and  support  their  independ 
ence,  or  to  involve  us  in  disgrace  and  defeat.  .  .  .1  shall  proceed 
on  the  supposition  that  they  will  ultimately  support  their  own  interest  and 
honor,  and  not  suffer  us  to  fail  for  want  of  means,  which  it  is  evidently  in 
their  power  to  afford.  What  has  been  done, and  is  doing  by  some  of  the 
States,  confirms  the  opinion  I  have  entertained  of  the  sufficient  resources  of 
the  country.  As  to  the  disposition  of  the  people  to  submit  to  any  arrange 
ments  for  bringing  them  forth,  I  see  no  reasonable  grounds  to  doubt.  If  we 
fail  for  want  of  exertions  in  any  of  the  governments,  I  trust  the  responsibil 
ity  will  fall  where  it  ought  and  that  I  shall  stand  justified  to  Congress,  to  my 
country,  and  to  the  world." 

This  history  now  brings  us  to  the  consideration  of  the  saddest  episode 
of  the  War  of  Independence,  the  treason  of  Arnold  and  the  death  of  Major 
Andre.  It  is  difficult  to  reconcile  the  action  of  the  former  with  his  past 
career  and  services — so  difficult  that  one  can  scarcely  resist  the  belief  that 
disappointment,  imaginary  injustice,  and  the  black  spectre  which  stands 
ever  at  the  elbow  of  the  spendthrift,  must  have  combined  to  unseat  hi? 


204  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

reason.  That  the  man  who  led  that  terrible  march  through  the  Northern 
wilderness  ;  who  fought,  bled,  and  ^suffered  so  bravely  before  Quebec  ; 
who  led  the  perilous  relief  expedition  to  Fort  Stanwix ;  who  joined  the 
Saratoga  fight  without  command,  and  led  the  mad  charge  into  the  very 
camp  of  the  enemy,  falling  desperately  wounded  within  his  lines ;  that 
this  man  should  have  striven  to  barter  away  a  stronghold  of  the  patriot 
army  for  pounds,  shillings,  and  pence,  seems  almost  irreconcilable  with 
sanity.  Yet  all  these  things  Benedict  Arnold  did.  He  had,  in  com 
mon  with  many  other  officers  of  the  colonial  army,  felt  slighted  at  some 
of  the  promotions  made  by  Congress,  by  which  men,  his  juniors  in  the 
service,  had  outranked  him.  He  had  unquestionably  been  slighted  by 
Gates,  at  Saratoga,  and  during  the  campaign  preceding  that  battle.  The 
wound  which  he  there  received,  had,  for  many  weeks,  incapacitated  him  for 
active  service,  and  he  was  consequently  placed  in  command  at  Philadelphia, 
where,  as  has  been  related,  he  earned  the  enmity  of  many  citizens,  was 
subjected  to  an  investigation,  and  mildly  reprimanded.  During  his  entire 
military  service  he  had  lived  beyond  his  means,  debts  had  accumulated,  and 
he  was  constantly  harassed  by  duns  and  threatened  with  the  humiliation  of 
an  exposure.  It  was  after  his  reprimand,  and  while  without  a  command, 
that  he  began  an  anonymous  correspondence  with  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  sign 
ing  himself  Gustavus.  He  represented  himself  as  an  officer  of  high  position 
in  the  American  service,  who  had  become  dissatisfied  with  the  conduct  of 
American  affairs,  particularly  with  the  French  alliance,  and  desired  to  join 
the  British  army,  if  he  could  but  obtain  an  equivalent  for  the  loss  of  prop 
erty,  which  such  a  step  would  involve  It  is  probable  that  Clinton  would 
not  have  kept  up  this  intercourse,  but  for  the  fact  that  Arnold's  letters 
occasionally  contained  a  bit  of  important  information,  which  events  proved 
to  be  trustworthy.  As  it  was,  the  answers  were  written  by  Major  John 
Andre,  aide-de-camp  of  Clinton,  over  the  name  John  Anderson. 

Andre  was  a  young  officer  who,  if  he  did  not  possess,  in  the  highest 
degree,  those  purely  masculine  traits  which  make  the  best  of  soldiers,  was 
of  unquestioned  bravery,  and  was  very  popular  with  his  fellow  officers, 
while  ladies  invariably  admired  and  made  much  of  him.  He  was  young, 
handsome,  gay  ;  he  painted  well,  danced  finely,  wrote  neat  verses,  had  a 
talent  for  the  stage  and,  as  an  actor  and  manager,  had  done  much  to  lighten 
the  heavy  hours  of  the  garrison  life  at  Philadelphia. 

Arnold  soon  found  that  he  must  give  himself  a  distinct  and  appreciable 
market  value,  before  he  could  hope  to  carry  his  negotiations  with  Clinton  to 
the  desired  end.  Hence  he  decided  to  use  every  effort  to  obtain  the  com 
mand  of  an  important  post.  Washington,  on  his  part,  believed  Arnold's 
difficulties  to  arise  only  from  heedlessness  and  lack  of  prudence,  and,  when 
was  proposed  a  movement  of  the  American  army  to  co-operate  with  the 
French,  designed  rehabilitating  him,  by  assigning  him  an  honorable  com- 


ARRIVAL  OF  ROCHAMBEAU TREASON  OF  ARNOLD.  2O$ 

mand.  To  the  surprise  of  the  commander  in  chief,  Arnold  did  not  seem 
satisfied  with  this  arrangement,  and,  upon  being  questioned,  said  that  his 
wound  still  unfitted  him  for  the  saddle,  and  asked  for  the  command  of  West 
Point.  His  request  was  considered  and  granted,  and,  about  the  3d  of 
August,  i/<So,  he  took  command  of  the  key  of  the  Hudson  with  its  depend 
encies.  His  treacherous  negotiation  with  Andre  was  now  carried  on  with 
more  spirit  than  before,  and  the  proposal  for  the  surrender  of  West  Point  was 
definitely  made,  considered  and  accepted.  It  was  arranged  that  while  the 
main  body  of  the  American  army  was  at  or  near  King's  bridge,  for  the  pur 
pose  of  co-operating  with  the  French  against  New  York,  a  flotilla  under 
Rodney,  having  on  board  a  large  land  force,  should  ascend  the  Hudson  to 
West  Point,  when  Arnold  was  to  surrender  the  post  almost  without  opposi 
tion,  on  the  plea  of  the  insufficiency  of  his  force  to  its  defense.  A  personal 
conference  now  became  necessary.  Arnold  desired  that  it  take  place  at  the 
Robinson  house,  his  headquarters,  but,  Andre  objecting  to  pass  the  American 
lines,  an  appointment  was  made  for  a  meeting  on  neutral  ground  near  Dobbs' 
ferry.  Andre,  in  disguise,  accompanied  by  Colonel  Beverly  Robinson, 
attended,  but  Arnold  was  prevented  from  keeping  his  appointment.  A 
second  arrangement  was  made  to  be  carried  into  effect  during  Washington's 
absence  at  Hartford,  in  consultation  with  Rochambeau.  In  furtherance  of 
this  plan,  the  British  sloop  of  war  \'ultui\\  bearing  Robinson  on  board, 
anchored  in  the  river  near  Teller's  point,  and  Robinson  sent  a  letter  to  West 
Point,  ostensibly  desiring  to  open  negotiations  for  the  recovery  of  his  con 
fiscated  property,  and  affecting  to  believe  that  Putnam  was  still  in  command 
of  the  post.  Arnold  sent  a  reply  openly,  by  a  flag  of  truce,  to  the  effect 
that  a  man,  with  a  boat,  would  be  alongside  the  /  Culture,  on  the  evening  of  the 
2Oth,  and  that  any  communication  necessary  to  be  made,  would  be  conveyed 
to  the  post,  and  laid  before  Washington  on  the  following  Saturday,  when  he 
was  expected  to  return.  Andre  accordingly  ascended  the  river,  and  boarded 
the  Vulture.  On  the  night  of  the  2 1st  came  a  boat,  rowed  by  one  Joshua 
H.  Smith,  who  was,  in  fact,  only  an  instrument  in  the  hands  of  Arnold,  and 
was  innocent  of  any  wrong.  He  bore  a  letter  to  Robinson,  which  Arnold 
had  artfully  written  so  that  it  might  bear  a  double  significance  Robinson 
introduced  Andre  as  Mr.  John  Anderson,  and,  entering  the  boat,  the  latter  was 
rowed  to  a  point  on  the  west  shore  of  the  river,  about  six  miles  below  Stony 
Point.  He  was  muffled  in  a  gray  cloak  which  concealed  his  uniform,  and 
the  boatman  thought  him  a  civilian  representing  Mr.  Robinson's  interest. 
Arnold  was  in  waiting,  and  the  negotiation  was  commenced,  but  daybreak 
found  it  still  uncompleted.  Arnold  then  persuaded  Andre  to  remain  on 
shore  until  the  following  night,  and  caused  the  boat  to  be  concealed  in  a 
neighboring  creek.  The  two  then  rode  to  Smith's  house,  within  the  lines, 
which  they  had  just  reached,  when  a  battery  that  Colonel  Livingston  had 
caused  to  be  moved  to  Teller's  point,  opened  fire  upon  the  Vulture,  and 


2O6  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

shortly  compelled  her  to  drop  down  the  river  out  of  range.  During  the 
morning,  the  bargain  for  the  betrayal  of  West  Point  was  completed  ;  Arnold 
was  promised  his  price  ;  Andre  received  plans  of  the  defenses,  which  he 
concealed  in  one  of  his  stockings,  and  all  was  ready  for  a  return.  Arnold 
desired  Andre  to  go  by  land,  as  the  Vulture  had  dropped  down  the  river, 
but  the  latter  insisted  upon  returning  to  the  vessel,  and  Arnold  left  him  at 
10  o'clock  in  the  morning,  having  first  provided  him  with  a  pass,  worded  as 
follows : 

"  Permit  Mr.  John  Anderson  to  pass  the  guards  at  the  White  Plains 
or  below,  if  he  chooses,  he  being  upon  public  business  by  my  direction. 

"B.  ARNOLD, 

M.    General." 

Andre  passed  a  weary,  anxious  day.  Once  on  board  the  Vulture,  he 
would  be  safe ;  West  Point  would  fall,  and  his  coveted  promotion  would  be 
assured.  He  called  Smith,  arid  urged  him  to  have  no  delay,  when  darkness 
was  come.  To  his  despair  he  found  that  the  latter  had  really  misunderstood 
the  arrangement,  or  affected  to  have  done  so;  that  he  had  dismissed  his  boat 
men,  and  the  last  hope  of  reaching  the  Vulture  was  gone.  As  a  sort  of  repara 
tion  Smith  offered  to  cross  the  river  at  King's  ferry,  and  accompany  the 
supposed  Anderson  some  distance  on  horseback.  It  can  scarcely  be  that  Smith 
had  failed  to  suspect,  by  this  time,  that  Andre  was  other  than  he  professed  to 
be,  especially  as  he  urged  and  persuaded  the  latter  to  replace  the  military 
coat,  under  the  cloak  \vhich  partially  disguised  him,  with  one  of  his  own. 

The  two  set  out  about  sunset,  crossed  the  river,  and  had  proceeded 
about  eight  miles  beyond,  when  they  were  halted  by  a  patrol,  the  com 
mander  of  which,  being  satisfied  by  Arnold's  pass,  warned  them  against 
proceeding  farther  by  night,  as  they  were  on  the  borders  of  the  famous 
Debatable  ground,  harried  alike  by  colonial  ''Skinners"  and  tory  "Cow 
Boys,"  between  whom  there  was  little  to  choose.  Smith  seems  to  have  been 
in  an  ague  of  fear.  Upon  his  solicitation,  Andre  consented  to  halt  for  the 
night,  and  the  two  found  quarters  at  a  neighboring  house.  In  the  morning 
they  arose  and  set  out  very  early,  pushing  on  to  a  farm  house  on  the  Croton 
river,  where  they  breakfasted  and  parted, — Smith  returning  home,  and 
Andre  pushing  on  toward  New  York.  The  latter  had  gone  but  a  short  dis 
tance,  when  a  man  stepped  into  the  narrow  road  before  him,  leveled  a  mus 
ket,  and  called  upon  him  to  halt.  At  the  same  moment  two  others  appeared 
in  support  of  the  demand.  Andre  lost  his  head  had  he  not  done  so,  he 
might  have  kept  his  life.  Observing  that  the  leader  of  the  party  wore  the 
dress  common  to  the  tory  partisans,  he  exclaimed,  "Gentlemen,  I  hope 
you  belong  to  our  party?" 

"  What  party,"  was  the  answer. 

"The  lower  party,"  said  Andre. 

"We do;"   was  the  reply. 


ARRIVAL    OF    ROCHAMI3EAU TREASON    OF    ARNOLD.  2O/ 

Andre  at  once  avowed  himself  a  British  officer;  said  that  he  had  been 
up  the  river  on  most  important  business,  and  must  not  be  detained  for  a 
moment.  To  his  intense  alarm,  the  men  now  declared  themselves  to  be 
Americans,  and  pronounced  him  their  prisoner.  Andre  did  all  in  his  power 
to  retrieve  his  error.  He  laughed,  and  said  that,  in  a  delicate  matter  like 
that  in  which  he  was  engaged,  expedients  of  all  kinds  were  necessary; 
that  he  was  an  American  officer  proceeding  to  Dobbs'  ferry  in  search  of 
information.  At  the  same  time  he  produced  Arnold's  pass.  His  captors 
were  not,  however,  common  "Skinners,"  but  intelligent  and  honest  yeomen 
of  the  vicinity,  members  of  a  bod}*  organized  to  revenge  and  prevent  the 
recurrence  of  outrages  committed  by  the  4<  Cow  Boys."  The  coat  which  their 
leader  wore,  had  come  to  him  from  a  tory  partisan  who  had  stolen  his  own. 
They  refused  to  be  satisfied  with  Andre's  explanation,  without  a  search, 
and  that  revealed  fatal  evidence  that  he  was  a  spy,  in  the  presence  of  the 
plans  concealed  in  his  stocking.  Thus  discovered,  he  attempted  to  bribe  his 
captors.  lie  would  give  his  horse,  saddle,  bridle,  and  one  hundred  guineas, 
and  send  them  to  any  place  which  might  be  designated.  One  of  the  men 
asked  him  if  he  would  not  give  more,  when  he  promised  any  reward  that 
might  be  named,  in  return  for  liberty  to  pursue  his  journey.  At  this  John 
Paulding,  leader  of  the  little  guard,  said:  "If  you  would  give  ten  thousand 
guineas,  you  should  not  stir  one  step." 

Every  effort  failing,  Andre  was  compelled  to  submit,  and  was  taken 
across  the  country  with  one  man  at  his  bridle  rein,  and  one  on  either 
side,  to  the  nearest  .American  post — that  at  North  Castle,  commanded  by 
Lieutenant-colonel  Jameson.  This  officer  very  carefully  examined  the 
papers  captured,  and,  discovering  their  dangerous  character,  forwarded  them 
by  an  express  to  General  Washington  at  Hartford.  Andre  desiring  that  the 
commandant  at  West  Point  be  notified  of  the  arrest  and  detention  of  Mr. 
John  Anderson,  in  spite  of  his  pass,  Jameson  wrote  Arnold  an  account  of 
the  whole  affair,  told  him  that  the  papers  found  upon  Andre  had  been  sent  to 
Washington,  and  forwarded  letter  and  prisoner  toward  West  Point  under  the 
same  guard.  Soon  after  the  escort  set  out,  Major  Tallmadge,  second  in  com 
mand,  arrived  at  the  post,  and  having  somewhat  more  common  sense  than 
had  Jameson,  succeeded  in  inducing  the  latter  to  recall  Andre,  but,  with 
stubborn  insistence,  the  letter  was  still  sent  forward.  A  little  consideration 
would  have  secured  the  capture  of  Arnold,  which  this  warning  prevented. 
Had  Tallmadge  not  come,  Arnold  and  Andre  would  have  laughed  over  the 
matter  at  a  British  mess  table.  Upon  Andre's  return  to  North  Castle, 
Major  Tallmadge  was  more  than  ever  certain  that  his  prisoner  was  a  military 
man,  and  one  of  consequence,  hence  he  advised  his  removal  to  the  more 
secure  post  at  Lower  Salem,  under  command  of  Colonel  Sheldon,  and 
Jameson  adopted  his  advice.  Learning  that  his  papers  had  been  sent  to 


2O8  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

Washington,  Andre  requested  and  received  the  privilege  of  writing  to  him, 
and  hastily  penned  the  following  lines  : 

"  I  beg  your  Excellency  will  be  persuaded,    that  no   alteration  in  the 
temper    of  my  mind,  or  apprehension   for  my  safety,    induces  me   to  take 
the  step  of  addressing  you ;  but  that  it  is  to  secure  myself  from  the  imputa 
tion  of  having  assumed   a  mean  character,  for  treacherous   purposes  or  self 
interest.          .          .          .          It   is   to   vindicate  my  fame  that   I  speak,   and 
not  to  solicit  security.     The  person  in  your  possession  is  Major  John  Andre, 
adjutant-general  of  the  British  army.     The   influence  of  one  commander  in 
the  army  of  his  adversary,  is  an  advantage  taken  in  war.     A  correspondence 
for  this  purpose  I  held ;  as   confidential   (in  the  present  instance)   with  his 
Excellency,  Sir  Henry  Clinton.     To  favor  it  I  agreed  to  meet,  upon  ground 
not  within  the  posts  of  either  army,  a  person    who  was  to   give  me  intelli 
gence.     I    came   up   in   the    Vulture,    man-of-war,    for  this   effect,    and  was 
fetched    from    the   shore   to  the  beach.     Being   there,    I  was   told   that  the 
appoach  of  day  would   prevent   my  return,    and  that   I   must  be  concealed 
until  the  next  night.     I  was  in   my  regimentals   and   had   fairly  risked  my 
person.     Against  my  stipulation,  my  intention,  and  without   my  knowledge 
beforehand,    I    was    conducted    within    one    of    your   posts.     Thus    was    I 
betrayed  into  the  vile  condition  of  an   enemy,  within   your   posts.      Having 
avowed  myself  a   British   officer,    I   have  nothing  to  reveal  but  what  relates 
to  myself,  which  is  true,  on  the  honor  of  an  officer   and  a  gentleman.     The 
request  I  have  made  to  your  Excellency,  and  I  am  conscious  that   I  address 
myself  well,  is,  that  in   any  rigor  policy  may  dictate,  a  decency  of  conduct 
toward  me  may  mark  that,  though  unfortunate,  I  am   branded  with  nothing 
dishonorable ;  as  no  motive  could  be  mine,  but  the  service  of  my  king,  and 
as  I  was  involuntarily  an  imposter." 

Having  made  this  explanation,  Andre  seemed  completely  to  regain  his 
equanimity.  He  chatted  and  joked  with  his  guards,  establishing  himself 
completely  in  their  good  graces,  and  drew  a  most  amusing  caricature  of  him 
self,  as  he  appeared  upon  his  enforced  march  to  his  place  of  confinement. 
The  gaunt  shadow  of  the  gibbet  was  even  then  across  his  path,  but  he  saw  it 
not.  Andre  was,  by  order  of  Washington,  removed  successively  to  the 
Robinson  house,  to  West  Point,  and  to  headquarters  at  Tappan.  There,  on 
the  29th,  convened  the  board  of  general  officers,  appointed  to  inquire  into 
the  circumstances  of  his  detection  and  arrest.  This  consisted  of  Major- 
generals  Greene,  Stirling,  St.  Clair,  Lafayette,  R.  Howe  and  Steuben,  and 
Brigadier-generals  Parsons,  James  Clinton,  Knox,  Glover,  Paterson,  Hood, 
Huntingdon  and  Stark.  General  Greene  was  made  president  of  the  board, 
and  Colonel  John  Lawrence,  judge  advocate  general.  Andre  was  brought 
before  this  board,  and  treated  with  the  greatest  consideration.  No  questions 
which  could  embarrass  him,  were  pressed;  no  witnesses,  save  himself,  were 
examined.  He  made  his  own  statement  without  any  reservation,  save  that 


ARRIVAL  OF  ROCHAMBEAU — TREASON  OF  ARNOLD. 

he  avoided  inculpating  others.  When  he  was  done,  the  board  took  the  case, 
and  shortly  afterward  gave  a  judgment  to  the  effect  "  that  Major  John  Andre, 
adjutant-general  of  the  British  army,  ought  to  be  considered  a  spy  from  the 
enemy,  and,  agreeably  to  the  law  and  usage  of  nations,  ought  to  suffer  death." 
The  unfortunate  officer  received  the  news  of  his  sentence  with  the  same  calrr 
fortitude  which  distinguished  him  throughout  and  to  the  end.  He  acknowl 
edged  the  impartiality  and  courtesy  of  the  officers,  who  formed  the  court, 
and  the  fairness  of  his  trial.  "  I  foresee  my  fate, "  said  he,  "and,  though  I 
pretend  not  to  play  the  hero,  or  to  be  indifferent  about  life,  yet  I  am  recon 
ciled  to  whatever  may  happen  ;  conscious  that  misfortune,  not  guilt,  has 
brought  it  upon  me." 

From  the  time  of  the  announcement  of  judgment  of  the  court,  there 
was  no  cessation  of  effort  on  the  part  of  Sir  Henry  Clinton  to  secure 
a  mitigation  of  the  sentence.  He  entered  into  correspondence  with  Wash 
ington,  and  the  execution  which  had  been  fixed  for  the  1st  day  of  October, 
was  once  postponed  to  permit  of  consultation  with  a  commission  sent  up 
from  New  York  under  a  flag  of  truce.  A  suggestion  was  once  made  to 
Clinton,  that  an  arrangement  might  be  made  for  the  exchange  of  Andre  for 
Arnold,  but  this  was  rejected  as  a  matter  of  course.  Arnold,  who  had  escaped 
to  the  British  lines  and  received  a  command,  had  the  unblushing  impudence 
to  write  a  letter  to  Washington  asserting  his  right,  as  commander  of  the 
post,  to  receive  Andre  within  his  lines,  and  to  give  him  safe  conduct  for 
return,  threatening,  if  the  judgment  of  the  court  were  carried  into  effect,  to 
retaliate  upon  the  first  American  officer  who  fell  into  his  hands.  As  if  it 
were  not  enough  to  insult  the  intelligence  of  his  late  commander  in  chief  by 
such  a  ridiculous  assertion,  Arnold  supplemented  this  letter  with  another,  in 
which  he  went  through  the  form  of  resigning  his  commission,  and  hypo 
critically  professed  that  his  action  had  been  dictated  by  a  sincere  regard  fof 
the  welfare  of  his  country. 

Andre,  conscious  that,  by  the  application  of  the  letter  of  military  law, 
he  must  die  on  the  scaffold,  addressed  the  following  letter  to  Washington: 

"Sin: — Buoyed  above  the  terror  of  death  by  the  consciousness  of  a 
life  devoted  to  honorable  pursuits,  and  stained  with  no  action  that  can  give 
me  remorse,  I  trust  that  the  request  I  make  to  your  Excellency,  at  this 
serious  period,  and  which  is  to  soften  my  last  moments,  will  not  be  rejected. 
Sympathy  towards  a  soldier  will  surely  induce  your  Excellency,  and  a  mili 
tary  tribunal,  to  adapt  the  mode  of  my  death  to  the  feelings  of  a  man  of 
honor.  Let  me  hope,  sir,  that  if  aught  in  my  character  impresses  you  with 
regard  towards  me;  if  aught  in  my  misfortunes  marks  me  as  the  victim  of* 
policy  and  not  of  resentment,  I  shall  experience  the  operation  of  those 
feelings  in  your  breast,  by  being  informed  that  I  am  not  to  die  on  a  gibbet." 

Washington,  had  he  consulted  only  his  own  feelings,  would  doubtless 
have  granted  this  request,  but  it  could  not  be.  The  cruel  justice  of  war 


2IO  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

demanded  the  ignominious  death  of  Andre,  as  a  spy,  and,  as  such,  he  was 
executed  on  the  2d  day  of  October,  1780.  He  mounted  the  hangman's 
wagon  unassisted,  removed  his  stock,  and,  with  his  own  hands,  adjusted  the 
noose  and  bandaged  his  eyes.  His  last  words  were:  "It  will  be  bur  a 
nvjmentary  pang,"  then  the  cart  moved  from  under  him  and  he  died,  almost 
without  a  struggle. 

So  ended,  most  sadly,  the  life  of  a  brave  man,  whom  his  friends  would 
have  ransomed  at  any  cost  short  of  dishonor,  and  whose  enemies  would 
gladly  have  spared  him,  could  they  have  done  so  with  safety  and  consistency 
There  was,  at  the  time,  on  the  part  of  the  British,  much  passionate  condemna 
tion  of  the  judgment  and  execution,  and  some  feeling  survives  to  this  day. 
Washington  did  not  escape  severe  criticism.  Yet,  in  the  coolness  of  a 
later  century,  there  seems  no  question  that  Andre  wras  fairly  tried,  honestly 
convicted,  and  that,  according  to  all  military  law,  he  justly  died.  The  circum 
stances  which  made  his  sentence  seem  so  hard,  were  fortuitous  and  personal, 
having  no  relation  to  his  offence.  Had  he  been  a  common  soldier,  instead 
of  an  officer  ;  a  clod-hopper,  instead  of  a  gentleman  ;  sullen,  instead  of  winning 
and  companionable;  evasive,  rather  than  frank;  cowardly,  rather  than  brave 
and  simply  dignified,  no  one  would  have  regarded  his  death  as  other  than 
the  natural  punishment  of  his  act.  He  was  clearly  a  spy,  and  his  corrup 
tion  of  an  American  general  officer  was  an  aggravation  of  his  offence. 
Washington  had  no  incentive  to  uncommon  severity,  but  rather  the  con 
trary.  There  was  no  clamor,  among  the  people  or  in  the  army,  for  the  blood 
of  the  unhappy  young  man.  All  would  have  been  happy,  could  his  life 
have  been  spared,  but  his  offence  was  too  serious  to  permit  it.  Andre's 
body  was  buried  near  the  place  of  his  execution.  Years  afterward  it  was 
removed  and  interred  in  Westminster  Abbey.  A  hundred  years  after  the 
closing  scene  of  the  tragedy,  a  citizen  of  New  York*  raised,  at  his  own  cost, 
a  monument  to  the  memory  of  Andre,  which  every  person,  not  blinded  by 
prejudice,  must  admit  to  have  been  well  merited  by  a  life  of  unquestioned 
honor,  and  the  death  of  a  brave  man. 

Arnold  was  made  a  brigadier-general  in  the  British  army ;  received  a 
money  payment  "to  cover  his  loss;"  issued  a  proclamation  to  the  Ameri 
can  people,  in  which  he  strove  to  justify  his  villainy,  and  another  urging  his 
late  comrades  to  imitate  him.  He  served  against  his  country  almost  to  the 
close  of  the  war,  then  retired  to  England,  where  he  passed  the  remainder  of 
his  clays.  His  wife,  by  reason  of  her  former  tory  associations,  was  suspected 
of  privity  with  his  plots,  and  banished  from  America,  during  the  continu 
ance  of  the  war.  She  went  to  England  and  joined  her  husband,  her  beauty 
and  wit  alone  serving  to  sustain  him  in  a  recognized  social  position, 
as  he  "was  generally  slighted  and  sometimes  insulted."  She  returned  but 

*  Cyrus  W.  Field. 


ARRIVAL    OF    ROCHAMBEAU TREASON    OF    ARNOLD.  211 

once  to  America,  and  was  then  treated  with  such  coldness  that  she  formed 
and  adhered  to  the  determination  never  again  to  visit  her  home.  The 
burthen  of  evidence  is  decidedly  in  favor  of  her  innocence  of  all  pre-knowl- 
edge  of  her  husband's  crime. 


,!.?,  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

MISSION  OF  LAURENS— REVOLT  IN  THE  ARMY-THE  WAR  IN  THE  SOUTH. 

THE  campaign  of  1780  was  a  very  inactive  one  in  the  North,  and  was 
extremely  mortifying  to  the  commander  in  chief.  The  second  division 
of  the  French  fleet,  with  the  promised  reinforcement  of  the  army,  was  delayed 
for  various  reasons,  and  did  not  eventually  take  any  part  in  the  campaign, 
This  prevented  any  offensive  operations,  for  the  allies  were  still  inferior  to 
the  British  at  sea,  while  the  weakness  of  the  American  army,  which  had 
been  a  source  of  so  great  mortification  to  Washington,  at  the  outset  of  the 
campaign,  was  never  sufficiently  remedied  to  permit  of  other  than  a  defensive 
policy.  Writing  to  Franklin,  minister  plenipotentiary  of  the  United  States, 
at  Versailles,  Washington  said:  "  Disappointed  of  the  second  division  of 
the  French  troops,  but,  more  especially,  in  the  expected  naval  superiority, 
which  was  the  pivot,  upon  which  everything  turned,  we  have  been  compel 
led  to  spend  an  inactive  campaign,  after  a  flattering  prospect  at  the  opening 
of  it,  and  vigorous  struggles  to  make  it  a  decisive  one  on  our  part.  Latterly 
we  have  been  obliged  to  become  spectators  of  a  succession  of  detachments 
from  the  army  at  New  York,  in  aid  of  Lord  Cornwallis,  while  our  naval 
weakness,  and  the  political  dissolution  of  a  great  part  of  our  army,  put  it 
out  of  our  power  to  counteract  them  at  the  southward,  or  to  take  advantage 
of  them  here." 

To  guard  against  a  like  defeat  of  the  aims  of  the  coming  campaign, 
Washington  urged  Congress  to  take  early  and  active  steps  for  the  organ 
ization  of  an  army,  and  was  especially  pressing  in  his  request  that  they 
at  least  attempt  the  negotiation  of  a  foreign  loan,  and  send  an  agent  to 
France  to  forward  this  design,  and  to  obtain  greater  naval  and  military 
assistance.  His  arrangements  were  so  far  effectual  as  to  procure  the  ap 
pointment  of  Colonel  John  Lauren^,  lately  his  aide-de-camp,  as  a  special 
commissioner  of  the  United  States,  with  instructions  to  proceed  to  France 
and  make  an  effort  to  negotiate  a  sufficient  loan  to  relieve  the  Govern- 


REVOLT    IN    THE    ARMY THE    WAR    IN    THE    SOUTH.  213 

ment  from  embarrassment,  and,  also,  to  strive,  by  the  strongest  repre 
sentations,  to  induce  the  French  ministry  to  use  such  vigor  in  their  co-oper 
ation,  as  to  insure  a  speedy  and  fortunate  termination  of  the  war.  Laurens' 
service  upon  the  staff  of  the  commander  in  chief  had  made  him  thoroughly 
conversant  with  the  needs  of  the  army,  and  the  steps  most  proper  to  be 
taken  for  the  success  of  the  war.  He  was  also  familiar  with  the  resources 
of  the  country,  and  it  was  upon  the  possession  of  these,  and  the  insignifi 
cance  of  the  public  debt,  that  he  was  instructed  principally  to  rely,  in  urg 
ing  the  granting  of  the  loan.  The  appointment  was  made  on  the  26th  of 
September,  1780.  Anticipating  the  order  of  events,  it  may  be  stated  that 
Laurens  succeeded  in  securing  from  the  king  of  France,  a  subsidy  of  six 
million  livres.  The  first  installment  he  brought  to  America  on  the  28th  of 
the  ensuing  August,  at  a  time  when  it  was  very  sorely  needed. 

Scarcely  had  Laurens  been  appointed  to  his  mission,  when  occurred  an 
incident  which  sufficiently  emphasized  the  necessity  of  placing  the  United 
States  in  a  position  to  do  substantial  justice  to  its  army.  The  Pennsylvania 
line,  consisting  of  six  regiments,  was  quartered  near  Morristown.  The  pay 
of  the  men  was  greatly  in  arrears,  many  of  them  not  having  received  so 
much  as  a  paper  dollar  for  a  year.  Their  coats  were  wcrn  and  ragged  ;  they 
wore  their  linen  trousers,  and  there  was  but  one  blanket  for  three  men.  So, 
thinly  clad,  poorly  fed,  unpaid,  they  worked  in  the  cold  and  snow,  building 
the  miserable  huts  that  were  to  shelter  them  during  the  winter.  Though 
they  were  of  course  discontented,  they  would  probably  have  submitted  to 
all  with  patience,  had  they  been  treated  with  common  justice,  but  their  officers 
failed  in  this,  with  consequences  that  threatened  to  be  most  serious.  Most 
of  the  men  were  enlisted  for  "three  years  or  during  the  war," — the  unques 
tionable  intent  of  the  words  being  to  limit  the  service  to  three  years,  with 
provision  for  an  earlier  discharge,  should  the  war  be  sooner  ended.  An 
effort  was,  however,  made  to  hold  the  men  as  enlisted  for  the  term  of  the 
war.  About  the  same  time,  a  deputation  from  Philadelphia  appeared  in 
camp,  and  distributed  gold  right  and  left  among  men,  who,  having  enlisted 
for  a  short  and  definite  period,  were  entitled  to  discharge,  while  these  veter 
ans  were  passed  by  and  left  penniless.  On  the  first  day  of  the  year  1/81, 
at  a  given  signal,  a  large  portion  of  the  line,  including  the  non-commissioned 
officers,  turned  out  in  order,  announcing  an  intention  to  march  to  Philadel 
phia  and  demand  redress  from  Congress.  Wayne  endeavored  to  pacify 
them,  and,  finding  words  of  no  avail,  cocked  his  pistols.  In  a  moment,  he 
was  menaced  by  a  dozen  bayonets.  "We  love  you  ;  we  respect  you,"  they 
said,  "but  you  are  a  dead  man  if  you  fire.  Do  not  mistake  us;  we  are  not 
going  to  the  enemy;  were  they  now  to  come  out,  you  would  see  us  fight, 
under  your  orders,  with  as  much  resolution  and  alacrity  as  ever."  Some 
effort  was  still  made  to  suppress  the  mutiny,  blood  was  shed  and  a  captain 
killed.  Then  the  men  set  out  upon  their  march,  Wayne  accompanying 


214  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

them,  but  without  any  authority,  and,  although  treated  with  scrupulous 
respect,  in  some  doubt  whether  he  was  a  free  man  or  a  prisoner.  The  men 
maintained  military  order;  the  regiments  were  under  command  of  sergeants, 
and  a  sergeant-major  led  the  whole.  At  Princeton  they  went  into  camp 
and  received  a  visit  from  Generals  St.  Clair  and  Lafayette,  and  Colonel 
Laurens,  whom  they  received  with  respect,  but  soon  ordered  to  leave  the 
camp.  A  committee  of  Congress  came  as  far  as  Trenton,  accompanied  by 
Reed,  President  of  Pennsylvania.  There  they  halted,  and  sent  on  word  of 
their  readiness  to  hear  the  complaints  of  the  men.  Two  emissaries  came 
from  General  Clinton,  promising  pardon,  bounties  and  liberal  pay,  to  all  of 
the  mutineers  who  should  join  his  army.  The  men  indignantly  denied  the 
possibility  of  their  "  turning  Arnolds,"  made  the  British  agents  prisoners, 
and  gave  them  into  the  custody  of  Wayne,  by  whom  they  were  afterward 
hanged  as  spies.  Encouraged  by  this  action  on  the  part  of  the  men,  Reed 
came  on  to  their  camp  and  proposed :  to  grant  all  entitled  to  such,  a  dis 
charge  ;  to  give  certificates  for  arrears  of  pay — allowing  for  depreciation  of 
the  currency;  to  furnish  at  once  certain  clothing  most  needed,  and  to  give 
to  all  men  of  the  line  forty  days  furlough.  These  terms  were  accepted,  and 
the  mutiny  ended  with  the  dissolution  of  the  insurgent  regiments. 

Washington  feared  the  consequences  of  making  concessions  to  men  in 
revolt,  and  his  fears  proved  well  grounded  for,  shortly  after,  a  portion  of 
the  New  Jersey  troops,  at  Pompton,  arose  in  mutiny.  The  commander  in 
chief  adopted  different  tactics.  He  sent  Major-general  Howe,  with  a  body 
of  New  England  troops  in  whom  he  had  entire  confidence,  and  directed 
him  to  suppress  the  mutiny  without  any  concession,  and  to  hang  the  ring 
leaders  on  the  spot.  These  directions  were  literally  complied  with,  and  the 
integrity  of  the  army  was  thus  preserved. 

In  the  meantime  the  scene  of  war  was  evidently  changing  more  and 
more  to  the  southward;  Arnold,  in  Virginia,  opened  a  guerrilla  warfare 
against  the  people  of  that  almost  defenseless  colony.  Moving  swiftly  by 
land  and  water,  he  was  enabled  to  do  great  damage — damage  all  the  more 
mortifying  by  reason  of  the  insignificance  of  the  force  with  which  it  was 
accomplished.  At  Richmond  he  destroyed  a  great  quantity  of  tobacco, 
and,  sending  a  detachment  to  Westham,  burned  a  cannon  foundry  and 
public  magazine,  and  knocked  the  trunnions  from  a  large  number  of  can 
non.  He  then  descended  the  river,  galled  but  not  seriously  opposed  by 
the  militia,  and  took  post  at  Norfolk,  where  he  fortified  his  position,  and 
for  the  time  being  remained. 

This  narrative  left  Greene's  army,  in  December,  1780,  resting  in  two 
divisions,  one  under  Morgan,  in  the  district  of  Ninety-six ;  the  other,  com 
manded  by  Greene  in  person,  upon  the  Pedee  river.  Cornwallis  was  not 
disposed  to  give  the  Americans  time  for  recuperation,  and  determined 
either  to  force  Greene  to  a  fight  and  defeat  him,  or  compel  him  to  retreat 


REVOLT    IN    THE    ARMY THE    WAR    IN    THE    SOUTH.  215 

from  North  Carolina.  Knowing  that  General  Leslie  was  marching  down 
from  Virginia,  with  a  body  of  troops  for  his  relief,  the  British  commander  saw 
only  Greene,  with  a  weak  and  motley  army,  between  himself  and  complete 
domination  of  the  South,  from  Virginia  to  Florida.  One  lion  lay  in  his 
path.  Before  he  could  proceed  directly  against  Greene,  Morgan  must  be 
conquered,  for  it  would  not  do  to  have  an  enemy  in  his  rear.  Hence,  he 
dispatched  Tarleton,  with  one  thousand  one  hundred  picked  men,  to  pro 
ceed  to  the  district  of  Ninety-six  and  dispose  of  this  little  preliminary,  he 
himself  awaiting  the  result,  within  such  distance  as  to  permit  of  co-opera 
tion.  Morgan's  force  was  nearly  equal  in  point  of  numbers  to  that  of  Tarle 
ton,  but  he  had  less  cavalry,  and  his  men  were  in  general  far  from  being  so 
efficient  as  those  of  the  enemy,  who  had  under  him  the  flower  of  the 
British  infantry  and  artillery,  and  his  own  famous  light  horse.  Morgan 
retreated  toward  the  Broad  river,  hotly  pursued  by  Tarleton,  who  was  con- 
fident  of  an  easy  victor}'.  Finally,  on  the  ijth,  Morgan  deserted  his  camp 
before  daylight  and  drew  up  his  men,  in  three  lines,  upon  an  eminence  at 
Hannah's  Cow  pens.  His  flanks  were  unprotected,  and,  six  miles  in  his 
rear,  ran  the  Broad  river,  effectually  cutting  off  retreat.  He  deliberately 
chose  to  fight  in  this  position,  believing  that  his  militia  would  fight  better  if 
they  could  not  hope  to  save  themselves  by  running  away.  He  knew  their 
dread  of  Tarleton,  their  familiarity  with  his  cruel  mode  of  warfare,  and,  he 
said,  "when  men  are  forced  to  fight,  the}'  will  sell  their  lives  dearly."  The 
first  of  his  three  lines  was  formed  of  the  Carolina  militia,  in  whom  he  had 
little  confidence ;  they  were  ordered  to  fire  twice,  then  retire;  the  second 
line  was  composed  of  regular  infantry,  and  the  third  of  cavalry.  Tarleton 
charged  the  first  line  savagely,  and  was  badly  damaged  by  its  volleys;  when 
it  retired  he  advanced  exultantly,  deeming  the  day  his  own,  but  was  met  by 
the  regulars,  who  resisted  stubbornly  for  some  time,  then,  under  Morgan's 
orders,  retreated  over  the  hill,  recklessly  pursued  by  Tarleton,  whose  men, 
fatigued  with  a  weary  march  and  hard  fighting,  were  dismayed  at  coming 
face  to  face  with  the  fresh  cavalry  of  Colonel  Washington,  which  attacked 
with  a  spirit  heightened  by  the  remembrance  of  their  old  grudge.  The 
fight  was  a  terrific  one,  and  resulted  in  the  decisive  defeat  of  the  British. 
Tarleton's  cavalry  broke  and  fled,  relying  upon  the  speed  of  horses  for 
safety,  and  their  commander  was  compelled  to  follow  them.  The  British 
loss  was  ten  officers  and  more  than  one  hundred  men  killed  ;  two  hundred 
wounded,  and  between  five  hundred  and  six  hundred  made  prisoners.  The 
Americans  lost  but  twelve  killed  and  sixty  wounded.  An  English  writer 
says  of  this  affair:  "During  the  whole  period  of  the  war  no  other  action 
reflected  so  much  dishonor  upon  the  British  arms." 

After  this  decisive  victory,  Morgan  hastily  dispatched  his  prisoners  to  a 
place  of  safety,  sent  a  report  to  Greene,  and  began  a  retreat,  hoping  to 
effect  the  crossing  of  the  Catawba  before  Cornwallis  should  overtake  him. 


2l6  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

In  this  he  was  barely  successful.  A  heavy  rain  raised  the  river,  Corn- 
wallis  was  prevented,  for  the  time,  from  crossing,  and  the  two  wings  of  the 
American  army  effected  a  juncture.  Then  ensued  a  series  of  masterly 
manoeuvres  on  the  part  of  Greene,  which  occupied  the  entire  winter,  and 
will  bear  favorable  comparison  with  any  military  accomplishment  of  the 
war,  but  which  cannot  be  elaborately  described  in  these  pages.  Cornwallis 
was  led  a  chase  of  over  two  hundred  miles  through  the  most  difficult  region 
of  North  Carolina.  Daily  promised  a  battle,  he  never  succeeded  in  bringing 
one  on.  He  lost  his  baggage,  wore  out  his  men,  and  finally,  coming  to  the 
Dan  river,  where  he  had  felt  certain  of  entrapping  his  opponent,  found 
Greene  safely  posted  on  the  opposite  side,  with  every  means  of  pursuit 
removed  or  destroyed.  Then,  after  giving  his  men  a  few  days  for  rest,  he 
turned  about  and  retreated,  while  the  Americans,  reversing  their  former 
movement,  re-crossed  the  river  and  followed  his  march,  harrying  and  galling 
him  with  their  light  cavalry,  while  he,  by  reason  of  his  losses  at  the  Cow 
pens,  could  not  retaliate.  Finally,  in  the  month  of  March,  Greene  received 
reinforcements,  which  increased  his  numerical  strength  to  four  thousand  two 
hundred  and  sixty-three  men.  With  these  he  resolved  to  risk  a  battle,  and, 
sending  his  baggage  to  a  place  of  safety,  established  himself  upon  a  height 
near  Guilford  Court  House,  and  prepared  to  meet  the  attack  which  he  felt 
sure  would  be  made  at  the  earliest  opportunity.  No  sooner  was  this  stand 
made,  than  Cornwallis  began  an  advance,  and,  on  the  I5th  of  March,  1781, 
attacked  Greene's  position.  The  first  line  of  the  Americans  was  composed 
of  militia,  which  broke  and  fled  almost  without  a  show  of  resistance,  and  so 
embarrassed  and  confused  the  remainder  of  the  army  that,  though  a  most 
stubborn,  and,  in  some  quarters,  successful  defense  was  made,  the  result  was 
the  loss  of  the  day.  The  loss  of  the  Americans  was  more  than  five  hundred 
killed  and  wounded,  and  about  nine  hundred  missing.  That  of  the  British 
was  ninety-three  killed,  four  hundred  and  thirteen  wounded,  and  twenty-six 
missing.  Thus,  though  Cornwallis  won  a  victory  over  a  superior  force,  it 
was  at  the  price  of  fully  one  fourth  of  his  army.  In  fact,  cut  off,  as  he  was, 
from  supplies  and  the  possibility  of  reinforcement,  his  victory  \vas  costly  as 
were  few  defeats  during  the  war.  Greene  had  retreated  to  a  point  of  ren 
dezvous,  where  he  collected  his  scattered  army,  and  when,  a  day  or  two  later, 
Cornwallis,  unable  to  pursue  his  advantage,  set  out  upon  a  march  for  Cross 
creek,  where,  in  the  midst  of  a  settlement  of  Highlanders,  he  hoped  to  be 
able  to  obtain  supplies  and  recruits,  his  lately  conquered  adversary  was  in 
hot  pursuit.  Cornwallis  crossed  Deep  river,  barely  in  time  to  burn  the 
bridge  behind  him,  and  thus  check  Greene.  The  latter,  knowing  that  the 
time  required  to  rebuild  the  bridge  would  be  amply  sufficient  to  put  the 
enemy  beyond  fear  of  pursuit,  changed  his  tactics,  dismissed  his  militia  to 
their  homes,  sent  word  to  Sumter  and  Marion  of  his  coming,  and  set  out 
with  his  regulars,  upon  the  long  and  toilsome  march  to  South  Carolina.  He 


REVOLT  IN  THE  ARMY THE  WAR  IX  THE  SOUTH. 

knew  that  such  an  expedient  would  result  either  in  compelling  Cornwallis 
to  follow  him,  or  to  surrender  the  control  of  that  province,  so  hardly  won 
during  the  previous  year.  The  British  commander  was  disappointed  in 
securing  the  succor  which  he  sought  at  Cross  creek,  and  passed  on  to  his 
base  of  supplies  at  Wilmington,  where  he  learned,  almost  with  despair,  of 
Greene's  southward  movement.  Lord  Rawdon's  principal  force,  he  knew, 
was  stationed  at  Camden ;  many  of  his  men  were  detached  at  various  posts, 
and,  although  he  saw  the  danger  of  their  being  defeated  in  detail,  his  own 
army  was  too  much  reduced,  and  the  distance  too  great  to  permit  of  his 
attempting  any  assistance ;  hence,  he  sent  an  express  to  General  Phillips,  in 
command  in  Virginia,  and,  deserting  the  province  of  North  Carolina,  to  the 
conquest  of  which  he  had  a  few  months  before  moved  with  so  much  confi 
dence,  set  out  on  the  25th  of  April,  upon  his  march  to  effect  a  juncture 
with  that  officer. 

It  is  difficult,  almost  impossible,  to  give,  within  reasonable  limits,  an 
account  of  the  various  military  operations,  which  intervened  between  the 
battle  of  Guilford  and  the  close  of  the  siege  of  Yorktown.  The  move 
ments  were  not  individually  important,  yet  they  were  extremely  compli 
cated,  and,  when  taken  together,  were  of  the  utmost  moment,  as  leading 
to  the  final  catastrophe  to  the  British  arms,  which  insured  the  independ 
ence  of  the  colonies.  The  condition  of  affairs  north  of  the  Carolinas,  at 
the  beginning  of  the  year  1781,  maybe  summed  up  in  these  words.  The 
French  army  lay  in  Rhode  Island,  and  the  fleet  at  Newport;  Washington's 
headquarters  were  in  the  neighborhood  of  West  Point,  his  army  being  so 
disposed  as  to  afford  the  best  protection  to  the  Hudson.  In  Virginia, 
Arnold  lay  at  Portsmouth,  awaiting  developments,  and  quite  secure  against 
any  force  then  possible  to  be  brought  against  him  on  short  notice.  New 
York  city  was  still  held  by  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  whose  tenure  was  not  threat 
ened  with  any  immediate  danger. 

Washington  keenly  felt  the  importance  of  preventing  Arnold  from 
gaining  too  strong  a  position.  He  conveyed  his  views  on  the  subject  to 
Congress,  to  Governor  Jefferson,  and  to  the  French  commander.  Before 
receiving  his  letter,  which  recommended  dispatching  both  naval  and  land 
forces  to  the  Chesapeake,  Rochambeau  and  Ternay  had  detached  a  sixty- 
gun  ship  of  the  line  and  two  frigates,  to  make  a  dash  against  Arnold. 
Washington  at  once  detached  Lafayette  with  twelve  hundred  men  to 
co-operate  with  the  French,  at  the  same  time  ordering  the  Baron  Steuben  to 
report  to  that  officer  and  assist  him  in  every  possible  manner.  The  march 
of  the  land  force  was  begun  on  the  22d  of  February,  and  all  haste  was  made 
to  reach  the  Chesapeake,  but  the  expedition  was  a  failure,  for  the  reason  that 
Arnold  retreated  with  his  vessels,  so  far  up  Elizabeth  river,  that  he  could  not 
be  followed  by  the  French  ships,  and,  as  the  latter  brought  no  land  force, 
they  were  obliged  to  return  to  Newport,  with  no  better  result  than  the 


'>'8  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

capture  of  one  English  frigate,  and  two  privateers,  with  their  prizes.  It  was 
then  determined  to  repeat  the  attempt,  with  a  larger  naval  force,  and  a  suffi 
cient  body  of  French  troops  to  render  the  defeat  of  Arnold  a  certainty. 
On  the  8th  of  March,  the  entire  fleet,  with  eleven  hundred  of  the  line,  sailed 
from  Newport,  and  Lafayette  was  again  on  the  alert  to  assist,  but  again  he 
was  doomed  to  disappointment,  for  the  British  fleet,  under  Arbuthnot, 
arrived  at  Portsmouth,  having  set  out  in  pursuit  of  the  French.  The  fleets, 
nearly  equal  in  strength,  had  met,  and,  after  a  battle  lasting  about  two 
hours,  both  had  withdrawn,  badly  crippled,  the  French  to  return  to  New 
port  ;  the  British  to  make  the  best  of  their  way  to  Portsmouth. 

In  the  meantime  Washington  became  much  alarmed  for  the  safety  of 
Greene ;  two  thousand  men  had  sailed  from  New  York,  and  he  could  scarcely 
doubt  that  the  intention  was  to  effect  the  juncture  of  this  force,  increased  by 
that  under  Arnold,  with  Cornwallis,  and,  this  being  accomplished,  sweep 
the  colonial  forces  from  the  South.  Hence,  he  ordered  Lafayette  to  march 
to  the  relief  of  Greene.  Phillips  arrived  at  Portsmouth  on  the  26th  of 
March,  and  spent  some  time  in  strengthening  the  works  at  that  place. 
Then,  on  the  i8th  of  April,  he  embarked  his  men  in  boats  of  light  draft,  and 
proceeded  up  the  James  river,  upon  a  marauding  expedition,  by  which 
Petersburg,  Chesterfield  Court  House,  and  Warwick  suffered,  by  the  burning 
of  public  and  private  store-houses,  and  the  general  ruthless  destruction 
which  distinguished  the  warfare  of  the  British,  after  the  measures  of  con 
ciliation  had  been  abandoned.  Richmond  was,  for  the  time,  saved  by  the 
presence  of  Lafayette,  and  Phillips  descended  the  river,  cautiously  followed 
by  the  American  general.  Just  at  this  time,  Phillips  received  a  dispatch 
from  Cornwallis,  announcing  the  advance  of  the  latter  from  the  South,  for 
the  purpose  of  effecting  a  juncture  with  the  army  of  Virginia.  This  changed 
the  plans  of  both  Phillips  and  Lafayette,  the  former  hastening  to  Peters 
burg,  the  place  of  rendezvous  indicated  by  his  superior ;  the  latter  taking 
post  near  Richmond,  to  await  developments.  Four  days  after  the  arrival  of 
Phillips  at  Petersburg,  that  gallant  officer  died,  leaving  Arnold  again  in  com 
mand,  until  the  arrival  of  Cornwallis,  which  occurred  on  the  25th  of  May. 
The  latter  general  was  now  strong  in  numbers,  and  had  a  very  reasonable 
expectation  of  soon  being  stronger;  he  learned  that  Lord  Rawdon  would 
soon  be  reinforced  by  fresh  troops  from  Ireland,  and  that  Greene  had  been 
checked  at  Camden.  He  had  no  doubt  of  his  ability  to  out-general  and  crush 
Lafayette,  whom  he  contemptuously  referred  to  as  "that  boy."  Hence  he 
had  " brilliant  hopes  of  a  glorious  campaign." 

There  was,  however,  nothing  very  glorious  about  the  wild  and  unsuc 
cessful  chase  which  Lafayette  led  him,  during  the  month  that  followed.  At 
the  end  of  that  time,  Wayne,  having  arrived  with  the  Pennsylvania  line, 
the  order  was  changed,  and,  for  another  month,  Cornwallis  was  the  hunted, 
with  Lafayette  and  Wayne  in  the  pursuit.  Finally,  Lafayette  was  misled. 


REVOLT    IN    THE    ARMY THE    WAR    IN    THE    SOUTH.  2Ip 

by  a  pretended  deserter,  and  sent  Wayne  forward  to  attack  what  he  sup 
posed  to  be  the  rear-guard  of  the  British  army,  but  what  was  in  fact  the 
main  body.  This  affair  occurred  on  the  6th  of  July,  at  Jamestown  island. 
The  Americans  would  have  been  hopelessly  defeated,  but  for  "Mad 
Anthony's  "  desperate  valor,  which  deceived  the  British  and  permitted  the 
army  to  be  drawn  off,  after  a  considerable  loss.  Lafayette  retired  to  Green 
Springs,  there  to  rest  and  recruit  his  men,  while  Cornwallis  pushed  on  to 
Portsmouth,  from  which  point  he  was  obliged,  by  his  recent  orders,  to  send 
a  large  detachment  from  his  army  to  rejoin  Sir  Henry  Clinton  in  New  York. 
This  action  on  the  part  of  Clinton  was  caused  by  demonstrations  made  bj 
the  allied  armies  in  the  North,  which  will  appropriately  be  discussed  in  i 
new  chapter. 


22O  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE    CLOSING    CAMPAIGN    OF    THE    WAR. 

beginning  of  the  year  1781  should,  according  to  the  paper  mus 
ters  of  Congress,  have  seen  a  force  of  thirty-seven  thousand  men  in 
service.  Yet  Washington,  after  deducting  the  armies  of  Virginia  and  South 
Carolina,  had  not,  on  the  first  of  May,  more  than  seven  thousand  soldiers, 
effective  for  service,  under  his  own  command,  on  the  Hudson.  The 
country  between  his  advance  posts  and  New  York  city,  was  desolated 
by  repeated  marauds  of  the  refugees  under  Colonel  Delancy,  and  other  tory 
leaders,  yet  the  condition  of  the  army  scarcely  permitted  the  detachment  of 
a  force  sufficient  to  check  the  outrages.  At  last,  a  particularly  bold  rav 
age,  resulting  in  the  death  of  two  valuable  officers, — Colonel  Greene  and 
Major  Flagg, — and  the  butchery  of  their  men,  led  him  to  determine  to  break 
up  this  partisan  warfare  at  any  cost.  While  he  was  considering  the  course 
to  be  adopted,  he  learned  that  Count  de  Barras  had  arrived  at  Boston,  to 
assume  command  of  the  French  squadron  ;  that  twenty  ships  of  the  line, 
with  a  large  land  force,  had  sailed  from  France,  under  Count  de  Grasse,  and 
that  twelve  of  these  were  intended  to  reinforce  the  squadron  at  New  York. 
Consulting  with  Rochambeau,  it  was  determined  to  make  a  joint  effort 
against  New  York,  the  French  army  moving  at  once  from  Newport  to 
join  the  Americans.  A  message  was  sent  to  intercept  De  Grasse,  and 
Washington  hastened  to  place  his  men  in  the  best  possible  condition  for 
effectual  co-operation.  At  the  best,  the  result  was  not  flattering,  for  not 
more  than  five  thousand  Americans  could  be  contributed  for  the  service. 
The  time  selected  for  the  movement,  was  when  a  portion  of  the  garrison  of 
New  York  was  detached  into  New  Jersey.  It  was  well  conceived,  and  care 
fully  arranged.  Much  depended  upon  accomplishing  a  surprise,  and  it  was 
intended  to  move  quietly  and  simultaneously  for  the  taking  of  New  York, 
and  the  striking  of  a  fatal  blow  at  the  tory  partisans  of  the  debatable 
ground. 


THE    CLOSING    CAMPAIGN    OF   THE   WAR.  221 

It  is  not  necessary  to  minutely  follow  the  history  of  tne  expedition. 
The  partisans  were  scattered,  so  much  of  the  design  being  effected,  but  the 
unexpected  return  of  the  New  Jersey  detachment  prevented  a  surprise  and 
rendered  it  prudent  for  the  armies  to  retire  and  await  a  more  fitting  oppor 
tunity.  This  they  did,  the  French  and  American  forces  going  into  neigh 
boring  camps,  extending  from  Dobbs'  Ferry  on  the  Hudson  to  the  Bronx 
river.  Later,  a  reconnoissance  in  force  was  made  to  the  neighborhood  of 
New  York  city.  Under  cover  of  five  thousand  troops,  Washington  and 
Rochambeau,  accompanied  by  engineers,  made  an  extended  and  minute 
study  of  the  British  position,  with  a  view  to  discovering  the  best  point  ana 
plan  for  an  attack.  These  demonstrations  proved  effective  for  the  relief  of 
Virginia,  as  they  alarmed  Clinton  to  such  a  degree  that,  as  stated,  he 
directed  Cornwallis  to  detach  troops  to  his  relief.  After  this  reconnoissance, 
both  armies  returned  to  their  encampment  to  await  an  opportunity  for  an 
attack.  While  matters  were  in  this  condition,  news  came  from  De  Grasse, 
that  he  would  leave  San  Domingo  on  the  3d  of  August,  with  between 
twenty-five  and  thirty  ships  of  the  line,  and  sail  directly  for  the  Chesapeake. 
It  was  at  once  determined  to  give  up  the  design  upon  New  York,  and  to 
remove  the  French  army  and  so  many  of  the  Americans  as  could  be  spared, 
to  Virginia.  Washington  sent  word  to  De  Grasse  of  this  intention,  and  a 
message  to  Lafayette  to  so  post  his  men  as  to  cut  off  the  retreat  of  the  British. 
He  did  not,  however,  tell  Lafayette,  at  that  time,  of  his  own  intention.  It 
was  kept  a  complete  secret  from  all  save  himself  and  Rochambeau.  Kvery 
preparation  was  made,  as  if  an  attack  upon  New  York  were  contemplated; 
pioneers  were  sent  to  repair  the  roads  and  bridges,  and  a  vast  parade  was 
made  to  deceive  both  Clinton  and  the  American  army.  At  last,  on  the  iQth 
of  August,  both  armies  were  formed,  facing  New  York,  as  if  an  immediate 
advance  by  separate  roads  were  contemplated;  then  they  were  wheeled, 
marched  to  King's  ferry,  the  tedious  crossing  made,  and  each  set  out  upon 
its  march  by  a  different  route.  The  men  of  the  American  army  believed, 
until  the  last  post  had  been  passed,  that  they  were  to  land  upon  Staten 
island  and  attack  New  York,  and  it  was  not  until  Washington  had  reached 
the  Delaware,  and  interception  was  out  of  the  question,  that  Clinton  discov 
ered  that  he  was  a  dupe. 

On  the  2nd  and  3cl  of  September,  the  armies  passed  through  Phil 
adelphia.  There  Washington  learned  that  his  plans  must  be  revised, 
as  an  extensive  embarkation,  which  Lafayette  had  taken  to  be  a  detach 
ment  of  additional  troops  to  New  York,  was  in  fact  an  evacuation  of  Ports 
mouth  in  favor  of  Yorktown.  Cornwallis  had  removed  his  army  to  that 
place,  which  occupies  a  position  on  the  bank  of  York  river,  opposite 
Gloucester  point.  Here,  secure  in  the  belief  that  only  Lafayette  was 
opposed  to  him,  he  was  leisurely  fortifying,  on  each  side  of  the  river, 
preparatory  to  the  transfer  of  the  war  into  Virginia,  which  he  expected 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

Clinton  would  make  on  the  ist  of  October.  In  the  meantime,  Lafayette  had 
taken  every  precaution,  by  the  disposal  of  his  troops,  to  prevent  a  possible 
retreat  on  the  part  of  Cornwallis.  On  September  5th,  Washington  left  Phil 
adelphia.  When  near  Chester,  he  met  a  messenger  bearing  news  that  the 
Count  de  Grasse,  with  thirty-eight  ships  of  the  line,  was  already  in  Chesa 
peake  bay;  and  of  the  junction  of  three  thousand  French  troops,  under  Mar 
quis  St.  Simon,  with  Lafayette.  He  returned  to  Chester  and  congratulated 
Rochambeau  upon  the  happy  result,  news  of  which  reached  Philadelphia 
during  a  great  banquet  given  by  citizens  to  the  French  officers,  and  set  the 
banqueters,  and  citizens  in  general,  wild  with  delight.  On  the  6th  the  embark 
ation  of  troops  and  supplies  began  at  the  Head  of  Elk,  and  Washington, 
having  notified  De  Grasse  that  the  land  forces  would  soon  be  thus  rein 
forced,  pushed  on  by  land,  in  advance  of  part  of  the  troops  for  which  there 
was  not  transportation,  to  Baltimore,  leaving  General  Heath  to  commence 
the  march  at  daybreak.  On  the  pth  he  set  out  from  Baltimore,  accompa 
nied  by  a  single  officer,  and,  late  at  night,  for  the  first  time  in  six  long  and 
weary  years,  entered  his  own  home  at  Mt.  Vernon.  There  his  suite,  whom 
his  eagerness  had  outrun,  joined  him  on  the  following  day,  and  at  evening 
came,  as  an  honored  guest,  the  Count  de  Rochambeau. 

The  remainder  of  the  campaign  of  Greene  in  South  Carolina  must  be 
passed  with  a  mere  statement  of  results.  Greene  was  checked  by  Rawdon 
at  Camden,  and  retired  for  the  time  being,  intending  to  await  reinforcements, 
but,  while  he  remained  in  this  condition  of  inactivity,  Rawdon  received  news 
of  the  event  which  had  prevented  Lafayette's  juncture  with  Greene — the 
movement  into  Virginia.  This  led  him  to  abandon  Camden  for  Charleston. 
Greene  at  once  took  the  offensive;  the  hardy  soldiers  of  Marion  and  Sum- 
ter  struck  repeated  and  successful  blows ;  the  light  cavalry  of  Lee  and 
Wade  Hampton  seemed  omnipresent,  and  the  army  gained  a  series  of  suc 
cesses,  each  small  in  its  way,  but,  taken  together,  contributing  little  by  little 
to  the  destruction  of  British  power  in  the  South.  The  war  was  boldly 
pushed,  one  cavalry  dash  being  made  actually  to  the  outskirts  of  Charleston, 
where  several  prisoners  were  taken  and  safely  brought  away,  before  the 
astonished  British  were  well  aware  of  the  cause  of  the  commotion.  About 
the  ist  of  August,  Lord  Rawdon  sailed  for  England,  leaving  Colonel  Stuart 
in  command  of  the  British  army.  Stuart  went  into  camp  within  sight  of 
Greene's  fires,  and  thus,  separated  by  two  rivers, — the  Congeree  and 
Wateree, — the  two  armies  lay  during  the  months  of  extreme  heat,  without 
any  active  operations  on  the  part  of  either.  The  result  of  the  campaign 
had  been  the  almost  complete  recovery,  by  the  Americans,  of  the  two 
Carolinas  and  Georgia,  and  only  a  slender  force  now  opposed  their  complete 
redemption. 

On  the  22d  of  August,  Greene  descended  from  his  delightful  camp  on 
the  hills  of  the  Santee,  and  set  out  to  make  a  circuit  of  some  seventy  miles, 


THE    CLOSING    CAMPAIGN    OF   THE    WAR.  223 

necessary  to  find  crossing  places,  and  approach  the  camp  of  Stuart  for  the 
purpose  of  making  an  attack.  Stuart,  however,  deserted  his  position,  and 
moved  forty  miles,  to  Eutaw  Springs.  Greene  followed  him  by  easy 
marches,  and,  on  the  5th  of  September,  came  within  seventeen  miles  of  the 
springs,  and  there  lightened  himself  of  tents,  baggage,  and  all  unnecessary 
impedimenta.  On  the  night  of  the  7th,  he  encamped  ten  miles  farther,  and, 
at  four  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  next  day,  advanced  to  engage 
the  enemy.  Then  ensued  one  of  the  most  desperate  battles  of  the  war, 
continuing,  with  varying  fortune,  during  the  day,  and  which,  though  not 
entirely  decisive,  ended  with  the  advantage  on  the  side  of  the  Americans. 
At  nightfall  Greene  drew  off  his  men  to  the  camp  they  had  left  in  the 
morning,  and,  during  the  hours  of  darkness,  Stuart  withdrew  from  the  field, 
leaving  many  of  his  wounded  behind.  The  American  loss  was  four  hun 
dred  and  thirty-five,  killed,  wounded  and  prisoners ;  that  of  the  British  six 
hundred  and  thirty-three,  five  hundred  of  these  being  prisoners.  Greene, 
learning  of  the  retreat,  in  the  morning  pursued  the  enemy  for  some  dis 
tance,  but  found  him  reinforced  and  well  placed.  Not  caring  to  risk  a 
defeat,  and  certain  of  ultimately  capturing  his  game,  he  returned  to  the 
heights  of  Santee,  and  neither  army  saw  further  service,  before  the  cessation 
of  hostilities  put  a  period  to  the  desultory,  but  bloody  war  in  the  Carolinas. 
On  the  6th  day  of  October,  the  first  American  parallel  was  begun,  at  a 
distance  of  six  hundred  yards  from  the  British  line  at  Yorktown.  The  work 
was  vigorously  pushed  during  the  night,  and  its  advanced  condition,  when 
daylight  revealed  it,  was  a  surprise  to  the  army  of  defense.  A  tremendous 
fire  was  at  once  opened  upon  the  new  works,  but  they  were  sufficiently 
advanced  to  protect  the  workers,  and  were  steadily  strengthened  from  within. 
On  the  9th  the  first  artillery  was  mounted,  and,  Washington  himself  apply 
ing  the  match,  the  cannonading  of  the  town  was  begun.  As  gun  after  gun 
was  placed  in  position,  the  fire  became  almost  continuous,  and  was  savagely 
answered  by  the  defenders.  The  town  was  very  seriously  battered,  Lord 
Cornwallis'  headquarters  became  untenable,  and  the  general  was  obliged, 
very  early  in  the  siege,  to  seek  a  new  and  safer  residence.  For  three  or  four 
days  this  tremendous  cannonade  and  bombardment  were  kept  up  from  works 
manned  by  the  Americans,  as  well  as  those  held  by  the  French  soldiers, — the 
fire  of  the  latter  being  especially  directed  at  the  British  defenses  upon  Glou 
cester  point.  The  works  of  the  enemy,  yet  uncompleted,  suffered  very 
severely,  and  many  of  his  guns  were  dismounted  and  silenced.  The  French 
fired  hot  shot,  which  ignited  several  building  in  the  town,  and  burned  a 
man-of-war  and  three  transports  in  the  harbor.  On  the  night  oftheiith 
the  second  parallel  of  the  besiegers  was  opened  within  three  hundred  yards 
of  the  enemy's  works.  To  oppose  the  construction  of  this  the  British  made 
*)cw  embrasures,  and,  for  three  clays,  kept  up  an  annoying  and  effective  fire 
upon  the  working  soldiers,  and  from  two  redoubts,  some  distance  in  advance 


224  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

of  the  main  works,  an  enfilading  cannonade  was  kept  up  upon  the  parallel, 
which  made  it  well  nigh  untenable.  It  was  determined  to  carry  these 
redoubts  by  coup  de  main  on  the  night  of  the  I4th.  The  assault  of  that 
nearest  the  river  was  to  be  made  by  Americans,  led  by  Lafayette,  with 
Hamilton  second  in  command;  the  other  by  French,  under  General  the 
Baron  de  Viomenil.  At  about  8  o'clock  rockets  were  sent  up  as  a  signal  for 
the  advance.  The  Americans  made  a  characteristic  assault ;  not  waiting  for 
their  pioneers  to  remove  the  abatis,  which  obstructed  their  path,  each  man 
forced  a  passage  for  himself.  Hamilton,  mounting  upon  the  shoulder  of  a 
private  soldier,  was  the  first  to  gain  the  parapet ;  followed  by  his  men,  the 
work  was  carried  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet,  without  firing  a  shot,  and 
with  a  loss  of  eight  killed  and  thirty-two  wounded ;  the  enemy  lost  eight 
killed,  and  seventeen  prisoners.  The  French  proceeded  against  the  other 
redoubt  more  regularly.  After  Lafayette  had  gained  the  object  of  his 
assault,  he  sent  a  messenger  to  Viomenil,  to  say  that  he  was  in  his  work. 
"  Tell  the  Marquis,"  answered  Viomenil,  "  that  I  am  not  in  mine,  but  will 
be  in  it  in  five  minutes."  He  told  the  truth,  the  redoubt  was  taken,  but 
with  much  heavier  loss  than  attended  the  execution  of  Lafayette's  enter 
prise. 

The  loss  of  these  advance  works  discouraged  Cornwallis,  who  could 
but  recognize  that  his  position  was  well  nigh  hopeless.  He  had  long 
expected  the  coming  of  succor  from  New  York,  but,  on  the  day  after  this 
coup  dc  mam,  he  wrote  Sir  Henry  Clinton:  <(My  situation  now  becomes 
very  critical.  We  dare  not  show  a  gun  to  their  old  batteries,  and  I  expect 
their  new  ones  will  open  to-morrow  morning.  .  .  .  The  safety 
of  the  place  is,  therefore,  so  precarious  that  I  cannot  recommend  that  the 
fleet  and  army  should  run  great  risk  in  endeavoring  to  save  us." 

On  the  night  of  their  capture,  the  redoubts  were  included  in  the  second 
parallel;  after  the  fall  of  darkness  on  the  i6th,  Cornwallis  sent  a  detach 
ment  to  effect  the  spiking  of  the  guns  which  were  mounting  thereon,  and 
succeeded  in  a  measure,  but  the  work  was  so  hastily  done  that  the  spikes 
were  easily  withdrawn.  With  the  failure  of  this  attempt,  he  gave  up  all 
hope  of  holding  his  position  until  succor  should  arrive.  He  consequently 
determined  upon  a  desperate  expedient.  Collecting  a  number  of  boats,  he 
prepared  to  transfer  his  army  by  night  to  the  shore  near  Gloucester  point, 
break  through  the  American  cordon,  and  force  his  march  to  New  York. 
In  pursuance  of  this  plan  he  actually  transferred  one  division  of  his  army 
to  the  main  land,  undiscovered,  and  embarked  the  remainder,  save  a  guard 
left  to  surrender  the  town,  when  a  heavy  wind  drove  his  boats  down  the 
river,  and  he  was  obliged  to  abandon  his  project,  with  barely  time  to 
re-convey  to  Yorktown  the  division  already  transferred. 

At  the  hour  of  ten  on  the  morning  of  the  i/th,  his  works  being  unten 
able,  and  his  last  hope  of  escape  gone,  Cornwallis  beat  a  parley  and  sent  a 


THE    CLOSING    CAMPAIGN    OF    THE    WAR.  225 

messenger  to  Washington  requesting  a  cessation  of  hostilities  for  twenty- 
four  hours,  and  the  appointment  of  a  commission  of  officers  to  discuss  terms 
of  capitulation.  Knowing  the  prospect  of  reinforcement,  Washington  hesi 
tated  to  grant  so  long  a  delay,  and  requested  Cormvallis  to  send  a  draft  of 
his  proposal  to  headquarters,  before  the  meeting  of  the  commission.  The 
proposal  came,  and  was  rejected.  The  armistice  was  prolonged;  commis 
sioners  were  appointed,  met,  and  concerted  terms ;  these  were  submitted  to 
Cormvallis  early  in  the  morning  of  the  ipth  of  October,  with  an  intimation 
that  an  answer  was  expected  by  1 1  o'clock  of  that  day.  The  terms  were 
accepted,  and,  at  2  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  Yorktown  and  the  citadel  at 
Gloucester  point,  were  surrendered,  the  British  army — seven  thousand  and 
seventy-three  men,  of  whom  five  thousand  nine  hundred  and  fifty  were  rank 
and  file,  marched  out  of  Yorktown  and  grounded  their  arms,  the  men 
becoming  prisoners  of  war  to  the  United  States,  the  officers  giving  their 
parole,  with  permission  to  return  to  New  York  or  to  Europe.  The  fleet  was 
surrendered  to  Count  deGrasse,  its  men  becoming  prisoners  of  the  king  of 
France.  The  following  description  of  the  formal  surrender  of  Lord  Corn- 
wallis  and  his  army,  is  worthy  quotation  : 

4 'At  about  12  o'clock  the  combined  arm}-  was  drawn  up  in  two  lines 
more  than  a  mile  in  length,  the  Americans  on  the  right  side  of  the  road; 
the  French  on  the  left.  Washington,  mounted  on  a  noble  steed  and 
attended  by  his  staff,  was  in  front  of  the  former;  the  Count  deRochambeau 
and  his  suite  were  in  front  of  the  latter.  The  French  troops,  in  complete  uni 
form  and  well  equipped,  made  a  brilliant  appearance,  and  had  marched  to  the 
ground  with  a  band  of  music,  which  was  a  novelty  in  American  service.  The 
American  troops,  but  part  in  uniform,  and  all  in  garments  much  the  worse 
for  wear,  yet  had  a  spirited,  soldier-like  air,  and  were  not  the  worse  in  the 
eyes  of  their  countrymen  for  bearing  the  marks  of  hard  service  and  great 
privation.  The  concourse  of  spectators  from  the  country  seemed  equal  to 
the  military,  yet  order  and  quiet  prevailed. 

"About  2  o'clock,  the  garrison  sallied  forth,  and  passed  through  with 
shouldered  arms,  slow  and  solemn  steps,  and  drums  beating  a  British  march. 
They  were  all  well  clad,  having  been  furnished  with  new  suits  prior  to  the 
capitulation.  They  were  led  by  General  O'Hara,  on  horseback,  who,  riding 
up  to  General  Washington,  took  off  his  hat  and  apologized  for  the  non-ap 
pearance  of  Cormvallis  on  account  of  indisposition.  Washington  received 
him  with  dignified  courtesy,  but  pointed  to  Major-general  Lincoln  as  the 
officer  who  was  to  receive  the  submission  of  the  garrison.  By  him  they 
were  conducted  into  a  field,  where  the}'  were  to  ground  their  arms.  In 
passing  through  the  lines  formed  by  the  allied  armies  their  march  was  care 
less  and  irregular,  and  their  aspect  sullen.  The  order  to  'ground  arms' 
was  given  by  their  platoon  officers  with  deep  chagrin,  and  many  of  the 
soldiers  threw  down  their  muskets  with  force  sufficient  to  break  them.  This 


226  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

irregularity  was  checked  by  General  Lincoln,  yet  it  was  excusable  in  brave 
men  in  their  unfortunate  predicament.  This  ceremony  over,  they  were  con 
ducted  back  to  Yorktown,  there  to  remain,  under  guard,  until  removed  to 
their  places  of  destination." 

So  ended  the  siege,  and  with  it  the  active  operations  of  the  war.  New 
York,  Charleston,  and  Savannah  were  still  in  the  hands  of  the  British,  and 
Washington  earnestly  endeavored  to  persuade  De  Grasse  to  remain  and  take 
part  in  a  concerted  movement  against  Charleston,  but  that  officer  pleaded 
his  orders,  and,  on  the  4th  of  November,  made  sail  for  the  West  Indies,  there 
to  co-operate  with  the  Spanish  flotilla.  In  default  of  the  assistance  of  De 
Grasse,  Washington  sent  to  the  aid  of  Greene,  two  thousand  troops,  under 
St.  Clair,  but  these,  in  common  with  the  remainder  of  the  army,  had  done 
their  work.  The  war  was  not  to  be  renewed  in  the  South  or  elsewhere. 
Rochambeau  remained  in  Viginia,  making  his  headquarters  for  the  winter  at 
Williamsburg,  about  which  place  he  established  his  army  in  winter  quarters. 
The  American  army  moved  to  Newburg  on  the  Hudson,  and  also  went  into 
cantonment,  and  the  campaign  was  at  an  end. 


FROM  THE  FALL  OF  VORKTOWN  TO  THE  PEACE.  22  / 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

FROM  THE  FALL  OF  YORKTOWN  TO  THE  PEACE. 

r  I  ^HE  news  of  the  fall  of  Yorktoxvn  and  the  surrender  of  the  army  of 
\  Virginia,  was  received  everywhere  in  America  with  the  greatest  delight ; 
in  England  the  depression  which  it  created,  was  correspondingly  profound. 
Congress  voted  its  thanks  to  Washington,  to  Rochambeau,  to  DeGrasse, 
and  generally  to  the  officers  of  the  allied  armies.  As  mementoes  of  ih^ 
victory,  two  stands  of  captured  colors  were  voted  to  Washington,  and  two 
pieces  of  ordnance,  each,  to  the  French  military  and  naval  commanders. 
The  country  for  a  time  went  wild  with  joy,  and  assumed  that  the  war  was  in 
fact  already  over.  Washington  retained  his  equipoise,  recognized  the  neces 
sity  of  providing  for  possible  future  operations,  and,  after  a  hasty  visit  to 
Mount  Vernon,  betook  himself  to  Philadelphia,  there  to  use  his  influence 
with  Congress  to  secure  the  strengthening  of  the  army,  and  guard  against 
the  danger  of  over  security.  While  on  his  way  to  Philadelphia,  he  was 
present  at  the  death-bed  of  John  Parke  Custis,  son  of  Mrs.  Washington 
by  her  former  marriage.  Mr.  Custis  left  a  widow  and  four  young  chil 
dren,  and  Washington  adopted  two  of  these, — a  boy  and  a  girl, — as  his  own, 
and  removed  them  to  his  childless  home.  The  son,  John  Parke  Custis,  Jr., 
subsequently  became  the  biographer  of  his  step-father. 

Washington  remained  in  Philadelphia  four  months.  During  the  inter 
vening  time  the  military  committee  of  Congress  adopted  his  views,  and  made 
unusual  provision  for  the  organization  of  an  army,  and  arrangements  to 
secure  additional  financial  aid  from  France.  The  execution  of  the  project 
for  army  reorganization  fell,  as  usual,  far  short  of  the  expectation  of  Con 
gress.  The  colonies  had  fallen  into  an  apathy  which  might  have  resulted 
most  seriously,  had  hostilities  been  renewed.  During  the  month  of  March 
the  commander  in  chief  set  out  for  the  camp  of  his  army  at  Newburg,  where 
he  remained  some  time,  busy  with  multitudinous  administrative  duties. 


228  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

It  was  while  there,  that  arose  a  painful  question  which  much  resembled 
in  principle  that  as  to  the  punishment  of  Major  Andre,  though  it  resulted 
more  fortunately.  A  company  of  New  Jersey  people  captured  a  New 
York  "Cow  Boy,"  named  Philip  White,  and,  while  conducting  him  to  jail, 
he  attempted  to  escape,  and  was  killed.  Shortly  after,  Captain  Joseph 
Huddy,  a  whig  partisan,  held  prisoner  of  war  in  New  York,  was  taken  into 
New  Jersey  by  a  party  of  refugees,  headed  by  Captain  Lippencott,  and 
hanged,  his  breast  bearing  a  placard,  on  which  were  inscribed  the  words: 
"Up  goes  Huddy  for  Philip  \Vhite."  Washington  at  once  demanded  of 
Sir  Henry  Clinton,  the  surrender  of  Lippencott  for  punishment.  This  was 
refused,  Clinton,  however,  promising  to  investigate  the  matter  and  punish 
the  officer  should  he  be  found  guilty.  Washington  determined  upon  retalia 
tion,  and  ordered  that  there  be  selected  by  lot  from  among  the  British  cap 
tains,  held  as  prisoners  of  war,  one  who  should  die,  to  atone  for  the  death  of 
Huddy.  The  lot  fell  upon  Captain  Asgill,  a  youth  of  but  nineteen  years, 
whose  amiability  had  made  him  a  favorite  alike  with  his  comrades  and  cap 
tors. 

In  the  meantime  Sir  Guy  Carleton  succeeded  Clinton  in  the  command 
of  New  York,  and  one  of  Captain  Asgill's  fellow-officers  solicited  permis 
sion  to  go  to  him,  and  urge  the  surrender  of  Lippencott.  This  was  allowed, 
Washington,  at  the  same  time,  saying  that,  deeply  as  he  was  pained  by  the 
necessity,  nothing  but  the  surrender  of  Lippencott  could  save  the  unfortu 
nate  and  innocent  Asgill.  The  matter  remained  undetermined  for  a  long 
time ;  eventually  Lippencott  was  tried  by  a  British  court-martial,  and 
acquitted,  it  appearing  that  he  acted  under  the  verbal  orders  of  Governor 
Franklin,  president  of  the  board  of  associated  loyalists.  This  changed  the 
aspect  of  the  case,  and  Washington  laid  the  whole  matter  before  Congress, 
recommending  at  the  same  time  that  Asgill's  life  be  spared.  Pending  a 
decision,  he  placed  the  young  officer  upon  parole.  Before  any  determina 
tion  of  the  case  was  reached,  there  came  to  Washington  a  request  for 
Asgill's  life,  sent  by  the  Count  de  Vergennes,  French  minister  of  war,  by 
the  direction  of  the  king  and  queen,  who  had  been  greatly  moved  by  the 
grief  of  Lady  Asgill,  mother  of  the  prisoner.  This  was  sufficient  to  turn 
the  tide  in  his  favor,  and  save  him  from  the  gibbet,  much  to  the  relief  of 
Washington  and  every  other  person  conversant  with  the  circumstances. 

The  advent  of  Sir  Guy  Carleton,  to  which  reference  has  been  made, 
occurred  early  in  May,  Sir  Henry  Clinton  having  been  permitted,  at  his 
own  request,  to  return  to  England,  that  he  might  set  himself  right  before 
parliament,  by  explaining  the  disaster  of  the  final  campaign  in  America. 
Carleton,  immediately  upon  his  arrival,  sent  Washington  notice  of  the 
fact  that  he,  as  commander  of  the  British  forces  in  America,  and  Admiral 
Digby,  constituted  a  peace  commission,  and,  at  the  same  time,  sent  copies 
cf  the  proceedings  of  parliament,  looking  to  the  establishment  of  peace,  or 


FROM    THE    FALL    OF    YORKTOWN    TO    THE    PEACE.  22Q 

of  a  truce  with  the  colonies.  Nothing  had  as  yet  taken  definite  legal  form, 
and  the  distrust  of  the  sincerity  of  the  peace  professions,  which  had  been 
constantly  present  in  the  mind  of  Washington,  while  it  was  weakened,  was 
not  removed,  and  he  bent  every  effort  toward  maintaining  the  integrity  of  the 
army.  This  was  no  light  task,  for  the  unpardonable  neglect  of  the  various 
States  to  respond  to  the  call  of  Congress,  and  provide  for  the  payment  of 
their  troops,  had  produced  a  general  and  justifiable  discontent  among  officers 
and  men,  who  feared  that  they  would  be  disbanded  and  turned  penniless  upon 
the  world.  Then,  too,  so  low  was  the  military  chest,  the  army  was  neces 
sarily  fed  from  hand  to  mouth,  and  there  was  often  lack  of  food  to  satisfy 
the  immediate  needs  of  the  men. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  Washington  crushed  an  incipient  movement 
looking  to  the  establishment  of  a  monarchy,  and  the  placing  of  the  crown 
upon  his  head  ;  had  he  been  a  Cnjsar  or  Napoleon  he  could  and  would  have 
fanned  this  spark  into  a  flame,  and,  with  a  devoted  and  victorious  army  at 
his  back,  have  climbed  to  a  throne  upon  the  ruins  of  his  country's  liberty. 
The  first  intimation  of  the  movement,  that  reached  him,  came  in  a  letter 
from  Captain  Louis  Nicola,  whom  he  had  long  and  intimately  known,  and 
who  Irving  affirms  to  have  been  the  mouthpiece  of  a  military  faction. 
Beginning  with  the  assertion  that  all  the  ills  of  America  arose  from  its 
republicanism,  he  advised  a  government  modeled  on  that  of  England,  which 
he  made  no  doubt  could  be  readily  established.  Continuing,  he  said  :  "In 
that  case  it  will,  1  believe,  be  uncontroverted  that  the  same  abilities  which 
have  led  us  through  difficulties,  apparently  insurmountable  by  human  power, 
to  victory  and  glory;  those  qualities  that  have  merited  and  obtained  the 
universal  esteem  and  veneration  of  an  army,  would  be  most  likely  to  con 
duct  and  direct  us  in  the  smoother  paths  of  peace.  Some  people  have  so 
connected  the  idea  of  tyranny  and  monarch}",  as  to  find  it  very  difficult  to 
separate  them.  It  may,  therefore,  be  requisite  to  give  the  head  of  such 
a  constitution  as  I  propose,  some  title,  apparently  more  moderate  ;  but,  if 
all  other  things  are  once  adjusted,  I  believe  strong  arguments  might  be 
produced  for  admitting  the  title  KING,  which,  I  conceive,  would  be  attended 
with  some  material  advantages." 

Caesar  thrice  put  the  crown  away,  each  time  with  a  weaker  repulsion 
and  a  more  obvious  willingness  to  relent;  Napoleon,  by  the  same  gradation 
suggested  here,  drifted  from  the  consulship  to  the  empire;  the  Richard  III. 
that  Shakespeare  drew,  refused,  with  pious  mien,  the  prayer  of  the  lord 
mayor  that  he  should  assume  the  crown,  only  to  accept  the  bauble  in  the 
end.  Washington  bade  the  devil  of  ambition  get  behind  him,  in  such  tone 
that  even  Satan  could  scarcely  have  the  audacity  to  repeat  his  proposal. 
He  answered  the  letter  in  these  words:  "With  a  mixture  of  great  surprise 
and  astonishment,  I  have  read  with  attention  the  sentiments  you  have  sub 
mitted  to  my  perusal.  Be  assured,  sir,  no  occurrence  in  the  course  of  the 


23O  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

war  has  given  me  more  painful  sensations,  than  your  information  of  there 
being  such  ideas  existing  in  the  army,  as  you  have  expressed,  and  I  must 
view  with  abhorrence  and  reprehend  with  severity.  For  the  present,  the 
communication  of  them  will  rest  in  my  own  bosom,  unless  some  further 
agitation  of  the  matter  should  make  a  disclosure  necessary.  I  am  much  at 
a  loss  to  conceive  what  part  of  my  conduct  could  have  given  encouragement 
to  an  address,  which,  to  me,  seems  big  with  the  greatest  mischiefs  that  can 
befall  my  country.  If  I  am  not  deceived  in  the  knowledge  of  myself,  you 
could  not  have  found  a  person  to  whom  your  schemes  are  more  disagree 
able.  At  the  same  time,  in  justice  to  my  own  feelings,  I  must  add,  that  no 
man  possesses  a  moie  sincere  wish  to  see  ample  justice  done  to  the  army, 
than  I  do ;  and,  as  far  as  my  powers  and  influence,  in  a  constitutional  way, 
extend,  they  shall  be  employed,  to  the  utmost  of  my  abilities,  to  effect  it, 
should  there  be  any  occasion.  Let  me  conjure  you,  then,  if  you  have  any 
regard  for  your  country,  concern  for  yourself,  or  posterity,  or  respect  for 
me,  to  banish  these  thoughts  from  your  mind,  and  never  communicate,  as 
from  yourself,  or  any  one  else,  a  sentiment  of  a  like  nature." 

On  the  2d-  of  August,  1782,  General  Sir  Guy  Carleton  and  Admiral 
Digby  notified  Washington  that  they  had  learned  of  the  opening  of  peace 
negotiations  at  Versailles.  The  fact  that,  with  all  these  general  prospects 
of  a  peace,  Great  Britain  had  made  no  movement  to  secure  a  suspension  oi 
hostilities,  seemed  to  Washington  to  cast  suspicion  upon  their  sincerity, 
hence  he  communicated  with  Rochambeau,  and  recommended  a  junction  of 
the  armies  upon  the  Hudson.  Rochambeau  consequently  put  his  army  in 
motion,  and,  about  the  middle  of  September,  crossed  King's  ferry,  and  the 
American  army  was  paraded  under  arms,  at  Verplanck's  point,  in  honor  oi 
the  coming  of  its  old  allies.  The  feeling  of  the  two  commanders  toward 
each  other  was  very  warm,  and  it  extended  throughout  the  armies. 

Some  time  after  this,  arose  a  very  serious  difficulty  in  the  American 
army,  which  bade  fair  to  result  most  disastrously.  In  the  flush  of  gratitude 
and  enthusiasm,  caused  by  the  defeat  of  Cornwallis,  the  Congress  voted 
half  pay  to  officers  of  the  army,  for  a  given  number  of  years  after  the  close 
of  the  war.  The  likelihood  of  ever  obtaining  this,  or  the  arrears  of  pay, 
became  a  subject  of  frequent  and  angry  discussion  in  camp.  At  last  the 
officers  united  in  a  memorial  to  Congress,  praying  for  the  pay  due  them, 
and  for  the  giving  to  each  of  a  certain  fixed  sum  in  commutation  of  the 
half  pay  referred  to.  This  memorial  was  sent  to  Philadelphia  in  the  hands 
of  a  committee  of  officers,  and  provoked  a  long  and  angry  debate,  but  it 
was  impossible  to  secure  the  votes  of  nine  colonies  requisite  to  its  granting. 
Upon  news  of  this,  an  anonymous  circular  (\vhich  afterwards  proved  to  have 
been  written  by  General  John  Armstrong,  a  valuable  and  patriotic  young 
officer,  who  lived  to  sincerely  repent  his  indiscretion)  was  distributed  in 
camp,  couched  in  the  most  eloquent  and  inflammatory  language,  and  contain- 


FROM  THE  FALL  OF  YORKTOWN  TO  THE  PEACE.  231 

ing  appeals  to  the  officers,  of  a  very  dangerous  tendency.  It,  in  effect, 
accused  Congress  of  deliberately  neglecting  the  demands  of  the  army, 
charged  the  people  of  the  United  States  with  ingratitude,  and,  saying  that, 
if  the  organized  army  of  the  United  States  were  neglected,  its  individual 
members,  when  it  should  be  dissolved,  could  not  hope  for  justice,  called  upon 
them  not  to  surrender  their  swords  until  their  wrongs  were  righted  ;  to 
give  over  sending  memorials  to  Congress,  and  to  forward  their  "  final  pro 
test;"  and  to  work  upon  the  fears  of  that  body,  since  its  gratitude  had  failed 
them. 

When  a  copy  of  this  incendiary  document  came  into  Washington's 
hands,  he  was  greatly  concerned  for  its  effect.  Among  other  proposals  it 
had  called  for  a  meeting  of  the  officers  to  be  held  on  the  following  Tues 
day,  the  nth  of  March.  The  first  step  of  the  commander  was  to  publish  a 
counter  address,  expressing  sympathy  with  the  misfortunes  of  the  army, 
and  anxiety  for  their  relief,  but  strongly  disapproving  the  attitude  assumed 
by  the  unknown  writer  of  the  circular.  At  the  same  time  he  invited  the 
officers  of  the  army  to  meet  him  on  Saturday,  the  i^th,  to  hear  the  report 
of  the  committee,  which  had  waited  on  Congress.  "After  mature  delib 
eration,"  he  added,  "  they  will  devise  what  further  measures  ought  to  be 
adopted,  as  most  rational  and  best  calculated  to  obtain  the  just  and  important 
object  in  view. " 

This  wise  and  moderate  appeal  had  the  effect  of  bringing  together  the 
officers  of  the  army,  almost  to  a  man.  The  commander  in  chief  then  read 
them  an  address,  which  can  scarcely  be  equalled  for  wisdom,  moderation, 
sympathy,  and  effective  appeal  to  the  better  sense  of  those  whom  it  sought 
to  influence.  How  great  this  influence  was,  is  indicated  by  the  fact  that 
no  sooner  had  he  left  the  hall,  than  the  meeting,  upon  motion  of  General 
Knox,  passed  resolutions  declaring  warm  reciprocation  of  the  affection 
which  their  commander  in  chief  had  avowed  for  them,  implicit  confidence  in 
his  wisdom  and  sincerity,  and  a  belief  that  Congress  would  see  justice  done. 
The  resolution  also  requested  Washington  to  write  to  the  president  of  that 
body,  urging  that  the  needs  of  the  army  be  relieved.  I  le  accordingly  at  once 
wrote  a  warm  letter  to  the  desired  effect,  and  mail}'  personal  communica 
tions  to  members,  which  ultimate!)'  resulted  in  gaining  long  deferred  justice. 

During  the  month  of  March  came  welcome  news  from  Paris  of  the  con 
clusion  of  the  peace  of  Versailles,  on  the  2Oth  of  the  previous  January. 
The  treaty  then  signed  was  purely  general,*  yet  it  was  difficult  to  impress  the 
rank  of  the  army  with  that  fact,  and  such  as  had  enlisted  for  the  term  of  the 
war,  were  clamorous  for  their  discharge.  Again  Washington  wrote  to  Con 
gress,  representing  the  condition  of  affairs,  and  the  decision  was  made  that 
the  men  were  not  entitled  to  a  discharge  until  a  definitive  treaty  of  peace  was 

For  particulars  regarding  the  peace  negotiation,  see  Life  of  John  Adams,  post. 


232  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

signed,  but  giving  Washington  authority  to  grant  furloughs  and  leave  of 
absence  at  his  discretion.  It  was  also  determined,  at  his  request,  that  every 
man  be  allowed  to  retain  his  arms  and  equipments,  as  mementoes  of  the 
service.  Furloughs  were  granted  right  and  left; — in  fact,  the  majority  of 
the  men  were  dismissed  to  their  homes,  never  again  to  be  calltd  into  service, 
only  enough  being  retained  for  the  needs  of  a  peace  establishment.  These 
were  retained  until  the  formal  dissolution  of  the  army;  some  of  them  until 
the  militia  of  the  country  was  organized  to  permanently  replace  them. 

The  first  step  taken  by  Carleton  looking  to  the  evacuation  of  New  York, 
was  the  sending  of  a  fleet,  laden  with  banished  tories,  to  Nova  Scotia, 
where,  as  one  of  them  gloomily  expressed  it,  "they  have  winter  for  nine 
months  of  the  year,  and  cold  weather  for  three."  On  the  i8th  of  October, 
Congress  formally  discharged  the  troops,  save  only  the  few  above  referred 
to  as  awaiting  the  organization  of  the  militia.  This  proclamation  was  fol 
lowed  by  the  famous  farewell  address  of  Washington  to  his  men.  The  army 
remained  encamped  upon  the  Hudson,  under  command  of  Knox,  until  sum 
moned,  early  in  November,  to  King's  Bridge,  to  be  prepared  to  move  into 
New  York  upon  its  evacuation  by  Carleton.  So  soon  as  this  evacuation  was 
completed,  the  troops  entered  New  York,  preceded  by  Washington  and  his 
staff,  and  Governor  Henry  Clinton  and  his  suite,  and  accompanied  by  the 
army  of  Rochambeau.  Thus  was  completed  the  last  formal  military  duty 
of  the  commander  in  chief. 

On  the  4th  of  December,  Washington  left  New  York  for  Annapolis, 
Maryland,  where  Congress  was  then  sitting,  for  the  purpose  of  presenting 
his  resignation  to  that  body.  "At  noon,"  says  Marshall,  "the  principal 
officers  of  the  army  assembled  at  France's  tavern  in  New  York,  soon  after 
which  their  beloved  commander  entered  the  room.  His  emotions  were  too 
strong  to  be  concealed.  Filling  a  glass,  he  turned  to  them  and  said :  '  With 
a  heart  full  of  love  and  gratitude  I  now  take  leave  of  you.  I  most  devoutly 
wish  that  your  latter  days  may  be  as  prosperous  and  happy  as  your  former 
ones  have  been  glorious  and  honorable.'  Having  drank,  he  added :  'I 
cannot  come  to  each  of  you  to  take  my  leave,  but  shall  be  obliged  if  each 
of  you  will  come  and  take  me  by  the  hand.'  General  Knox,  being  nearest, 
turned  to  him.  Washington,  incapable  of  utterance,  grasped  his  hand  and 
embraced  him.  In  the  same  affectionate  manner  he  took  leave  of  each  suc 
ceeding  officer.  The  tear  of  manly  sensibility  was  in  every  eye,  and  not  a 
word  was  articulated  to  interrupt  the  dignified  silence,  and  the  tenderness  of 
the  scene.  Leaving  the  room  he  passed  through  the  corps  of  light  infantry, 
and  walked  to  White  Hall,  where  a  barge  waited  to  carry  him  to  Paulus 
hook.  The  whole  company  followed  in  mute  and  solemn  procession,  with 
dejected  countenances,  testifying  feelings  of  delicious  melancholy,  which  no 
language  can  describe.  Having  entered  the  barge,  he  turned  to  the  com 
pany,  and,  waving  his  hat,  bade  them  a  silent  adieu.  They  paid  him  the 


FROM    THE    FALL    OF    YORKTOWX    TO    THE    PEACE.  2^ 

same  affectionate  compliment;  and,  after  the  barge  had  left  them,  returned 
in  the  same  solemn  manner  to  the  place  where  they  had  assembled." 

Washington  went  directly  to  Annapolis,  and  requested  to  be  instructed 
by  Congress  as  to  the  most  proper  manner  of  presenting  his  resig 
nation, — whether  it  should  be  sent  in,  in  writing,  or  whether  he  should 
appear  before  that  body  in  person  and  present  it  more  directly.  Congress 
indicated  its  preference  for  the  latter  course,  and,  on  the  23d  day  of 
December,  at  noon,  he  entered  the  hall  to  lay  down  the  trust  he  had  so 
long  and  nobly  borne.  The  hall  was  full  to  overflowing;  members,  by 
virtue  of  their  office,  occupied  their  places,  and  sat  covered;  unofficial 
spectator:  filled  the  remainder  of  the  room,  standing,  with  bared  heads, 
and  very  many  ladies  were  present.  He  was  conducted  to  a  seat  by  the 
secretary  of  Congress,  and  it  was  announced  that  that  body  was  prepared  to 
hear  his  communication.  He  then  arose  in  his  place,  and  presented  his  resig 
nation,  making  a  short  and  feeling  address,  of  which  the  following  is  a  part: 
"The  great  events,  on  which  my  resignation  depended,  having  at  last  taken 
place,  I  now  have  the  opportunity  of  offering  my  sincere  congratulations  to 
Congress,  and  of  presenting  myself  before  them,  to  surrender  into  their 
hands  the  trust  committed  to  me,  and  to  claim  the  indulgence  of  retiring 

from  the  service  of  my  country I  consider  it  an  indispensable 

duty  to  close  this  last  solemn  act  of  my  official  life,  by  commending  the 
interests  of  our  dearest  country  to  the  protection  of  Almighty  God,  and 
those  who  have  the  superintendence  of  them  to  His  holy  keeping.  Having 
now  finished  the  work  assigned  me,  I  retire  from  the  great  theater  of  action ; 
and  bidding  an  affectionate  farewell  to  this  august  body,  under  whose  orders 
I  have  long  acted,  I  here  offer  my  commission,  and  take  my  leave  of  all  the 
employments  of  public  life."  Few  eyes  in  all  the  house  but  were  filled  with 
tears  when  this  nobly  simple  farewell  address  was  concluded.  Had  Wash 
ington  been  the  most  theatrical  and  insincere  of  men,  he  could  have  devised 
nothing  which  would  so  completely  have  captivated  and  melted  his  hearers 
as  this  affecting  farewell.  Already,  on  his  way  to  Annapolis,  He  had 
paused  at  Philadelphia  and  adjusted  his  army  accounts,  which  he  had  kept 
with  scrupulous  nicety,  throughout  the  war.  All  were  for  expenditures,  for 
he  had  avowed  from  the  first  his  determination  to  accept  no  pay,  for  the 
service  of  his  country  against  Great  Britain.  No  one  should  ever  accuse  him 
of  having  turned  rebel  for  hire.  The  total  account  rei  dered  against  the 
United  States,  covering  a  service  of  eight  years,  was  for  b1  I  fourteen  thousand 
five  hundred  pounds  sterling,  and  the  payment  of  this  sum  left  him  still  an 
actual  looser,  as  he  had  paid  out  many  sums  which  he  had  never  had  time 
to  charge  in  his  account. 

Thus,  having  settled  his  financial  affairs  and  resigned  his  commis 
sion,  Washington  was  again,  and  after  a  continuous  service  of  more  than 
eight  years,  a  private  citizen.  During  that  time  he  had  visited  his  home 


234  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

but  twice,  and  neither  time  for  more  than  a  few  hours ;  he  had  undergone 
hardship,  deprivation,  disappointment,  misconception,  obloquy.  He  had 
been  assailed  by  malignant  enemies,  and  deserted  by  false  friends;  he 
had  suffered  defeat  without  depression,  and  withstood  victory  without 
exaltation.  He  had  been  the  ridiculed  commander  of  flying  tatterde 
malions,  and  the  petted  and  eulogized  conqueror  of  the  flower  of  the 
British  chivalry.  He  had  shown  the  courage  not  only  to  assail  an  enemy, 
but  to  oppose  a  friend ;  he  had  shown  that  he  could  be  just  when  the  popu 
lar  voice  called  for  lenity;  sparing  when  the  outcry  was  for  vengeance.  He 
had  always  borne  the  same  calm,  even  front  against  the  open  dangers  of  a 
doubtful  war,  and  the  insidious  perils  that  wait  upon  success.  He  had 
turned  his  back  indignantly  upon  the  suggestion  of  a  crown.  He  had 
earned  from  a  whole  people,  undivided  love ;  from  a  whole  world  unqualified 
respect.  His  passage  thus  quietly  and  unostentatiously,  and,  as  a  matter  01" 
course,  from  such  a  lofty  position,  with  such  unlimited  opportunities  for 
gratifying  a  corrupt  ambition,  to  the  remote  seclusion  of  a  Potomac  planta 
tion,  has  been  justly  considered  one  of  the  most  remarkable,  and  one  of  the 
grandest  acts  of  history.  So  was  his  whole  Mfe, before  and  after,  devoted  to 
right,  to  the  doing  of  single  hearted  and  honest  service  to  America,  that  he 
well  earned  the  title  that  millions  have  since  learned  to  associate  with  his 
name — that  of  the  Father  of  his  Country. 

But  one  visible  tie  now  bound  Washington  to  his  beloved  companions 
in  arms ;  that  was  their  common  membership  in  the  Society  of  the  Cincin 
nati,  to  which  a  few  words  may  well  be  devoted,  in  closing  this  chapter. 
The  order  was  formed  in  accordance  with  the  suggestion  of  the  warm 
hearted  Knox,  as  a  means  of  keeping  alive  the  friendships  and  the  associa 
tions  of  the  Revolution.  Baron  Steuben  drew  its  constitution,  which  pro 
vided  for  the  perpetuation  of  the  society,  by  the  descent  of  membership  to 
the  eldest  male  son  of  each  of  the  original  members,  or  the  passing  of  that 
privilege  to  collateral  heirs,  in  the  event  of  a  failure  in  the  direct  line.  The 
order  was  to  be  subdivided  into  state  and  district  associations,  and  regular 
meetings  were  stipulated  and  arranged  for.  To  Washington  was  offered  the 
first  presidency  of  this  order,  which  has  only  to-day  lapsed,  by  reason  of 
the  jealous  republicanism  of  the  time  following  the  war.  The  country  took 
alarm  at  it,  imagining  that  the  intention  of  its  originators  was  to  establish 
an  order  of  hereditary  nobility  ;  public  meetings  denounced  it ;  state  legis 
latures  took  cognizance  of  it  and  deprecated  its  existence;  Thomas  Jeffer 
son,  and  extreme  republicans  of  his  class,  disapproved  of  it,  and,  finally,  the 
hereditary  provision  was  stricken  out,  and  the  Society  of  the  Cincinnati 
perished  from  the  earth,  with  the  death  of  the  brave  men  who  were  its 
projectors. 


HOME    LIFE    AND    PRIVATE    INTERESTS.  235 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

HOME  LIFE  AND  PRIVATE   INTERESTS. 

HOME  at  last!  Probably  the  words  and  the  thought  which  they  embody, 
were  never  more  sweet  to  any  man,  than  were  they  to  Washington 
when  he  returned  to  Mount  Vernon,  and  again  took  up  the  thread  of  the 
pleasant  rural  life,  which  had  been  so  rudely  interrupted  by  the  call  to  arms. 
Surely  no  one  ever  settled  more  naturally  and  quietly,  from  the  guardianship 
of  a  nation  to  agriculture.  In  fact,  all  through  the  war  Washington  had 
carried  the  map  of  his  plantation  with  him,  and  had  directed,  if  he  could  not 
personally  administer,  his  affairs.  He  had  known  every  season  what  crops 
each  farm  was  devoted  to,  what  the  yield,  price  and  profit  or  loss,  so  exact 
and  methodical  was  he,  even  in  the  field.  It  is  not  possible  to  follow 
minutely  in  this  work,  the  life  of  the  late  commander  and  coming  president, 
in  the  interval  between  the  past  which  he  had  relinquished  and  the  future 
which  he  did  not  suspect.  His  house  was  open  with  its  old-time  generous 
yet  simple  hospitality.  He  entertained  all  who  came  with  any  shadow  of 
title  to  recognition,  and  these  were  more  and  more,  as  the  months  and  years 
passed.  Washington,  by  fighting  with  France  and  against  England,  had 
become  a  man  of  note  in  the  two  leading  nations  of  Europe,  thence  his 
repute  had  spread  over  the  continent,  and  his  house  was  besieged  by  tourists 
of  every  name  and  nationality;  then,  too,  there  came  the  leading  men  of 
America,  and,  last  and  most  welcome,  those  whom  he  loved  as  his  own 
brothers, — his  old  associates  in  arms.  He  possessed  a  liberal  estate,  but  it 
had  not  prospered  as  in  the  old  days  when  he  had  superintended  its  conduct, 
and  there  was  free  exportation  of  its  tobacco  ;  he  was  cramped  for  money, 
and  did  not  cease  to  be  so  for  some  years.  What  was  at  first  but  an  uncon- 
venience,  became,  with  the  continual  demands  upon  his  hospitality,  a  positive 
embarrassment  The  Pennsylvania  legislature,  knowing  of  the  constant 
throng  of  visitors  coming  to  his  door,  thoughtfully  called  the  attention  of 


236  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

Congress  to  the  facts,  and  recommended  that  some  action  be  taken  for  his 
relief.  News  of  this  movement  came  to  him  while  he  was  in  real  anxiety, 
and,  to  many  men,  would  have  come  as  a  piece  of  good  fortune,  but  he 
respectfully  and  gratefully  declined  it,  his  pride  of  independence,  and  his 
especial  determination  that  his  service  of  his  country  should  be  gratuitous, 
standing  as  repellant  sentinels  at  the  opening  of  his  empty  purse.  How 
serious  this  embarrassment  later  became,  is  best  illustrated  by  certain  letters 
published  for  the  first  time  in  Bancroft's  History  of  the  United  States. 
The  first  of  these,  addressed  to  his  mother  under  date  of  February  17,  1787, 
is  as  follow.^ : 

"HONORED  MADAM: — I  have  now  demands  upon  me  for  more  than 
five  hundred  pounds,  three  hundred  and  forty  odd  of  which  are  due  for  the 
tax  of  ij86,  and  I  know  not  where  or  when  I  shall  receive  one  shilling  with 
which  to  pay  it." 

The  second  letter  is  addressed  to  his  family  physician,  to  whom  he  was 
indebted  in  the  sum  of  sixty  pounds.  It  enclosed  thirty  pounds,  and  apolo 
gized  for  not  remitting  the  whole  amount  of  the  debt : 

"  I  wish  it  was  in  my  power  to  send  the  like  sum  for  the  other  year, 
which  is  now  about  or  near  due  ;  and  that  I  could  discharge  your  account 
for  attendance  and  ministries  to  the  sick  of  my  family,  but  really  it  is  not, 
for  with  much  truth,  I  can  say  I  never  felt  the  want  of  money  so  sensibly 
since  I  was  a  boy  fifteen  years  old,  as  I  have  for  the  last  twelve  months,  and 
probably  shall  for  twelve  months  more  to  come." 

The  last,  and,  evidently,  to  Washington,  the  most  humiliating  of  these 
letters,  is  addressed  to  Richard  Conway,  of  New  York  city.  It  was  written 
on  the  4th  day  of  March,  1789,  after  his  election  to  the  presidency,  for  the 
purpose  of  securing  a  loan  from  Conway,  to  enable  him  to  pay  the  expense 
of  his  inauguration,  and  is  as  follows  : 

"  DEAR  SIR  : — Never,  till  within  these  two  years,  have  I  experienced  the 
want  of  money.  Short  crops,  and  other  causes,  not  entirely  within  my  con 
trol,  make  me  feel  it  now  very  sensibly.  Under  this  statement  I  am  inclined 
to  do  what  I  never  expected  to  be  driven  to — that  is,  to  borrow  money  on 
interest.  Five  hundred  pounds  would  enable  me  to  discharge  what  I  owe 
in  Alexandria,  etc.  Having  thus  fully  and  candidly  explained  myself,  per 
mit  me  to  ask  if  it  is  in  your  power  to  supply  me  with  the  above  or  a 
smaller  sum.  Any  security  you  may  like  I  can  give,  and  you  may  be 
assured  that  it  is  no  more  my  inclination  than  it  can  be  yours,  to  let  it 
remain  long  unpaid." 

At  the  moment  when  this  letter  was  written,  the  United  States  owed 
Washington  not  far  from  fifty  thousand  dollars,  which  it  was  ready  to  pay, 
and  he  refused  to  accept.  In  the  year  of  grace,  1887,  there  is,  in  the  city 
which  bears  his  name,  a  monument  to  his  memory  which  for  many  years 


HOME    LIFE    AND    PRIVATE    INTERESTS.  237 

was  uncompleted  for  lack  of  funds  ;  and  yet  the  Government  has  had  the 
use  of  the  sum  named  for  one  hundred  years. 

In  the  month  of  September,  1784,  Washington,  in  company  with  his 
old  friend,  Dr.  Clark,  made  a  tour  of  inspection,  which  was  at  first  intended 
to  cover  all  his  lands  west  of  the  mountains,  including  extensive  tracts 
upon  the  Ohio  and  Kanawha.  These  he  designed  to  survey  and  map,  so 
that  they  might  be  available  for  settlement  or  sale.  The  unquiet  and  dan 
gerous  condition  of  the  Indian  tribes  rendered  the  penetration  of  the  wilder 
ness  beyond  Fort  Pitt  too  hazardous  to  be  attempted,  and  the  two,  with 
their  servants  and  pack-horses,  contented  themselves  with  proceeding  as  far 
as  that  point,  then  made  a  rough  march  over  the  mountains,  and,  descending 
into  the  Shenandoah,  reached  Mount  Vernon,  having,  in  little  more  than 
a  month,  traveled  more  than  six  hundred  miles,  sleeping,  for  the  most  part, 
in  a  tent,  and  renewing  the  experiences  of  the  campaigning  of  more  than 
thirty  years  before,  in  the  same  region. 

The  expedition  had  another  object  beyond  its  private  purpose,  and  one 
of  vastly  more  importance.  Washington  was  thoroughly  imbued  with  the 
belief  of  the  Roman  emperors,  that  a  road  is  the  best  civilizer.  He  saw 
the  magnificent  resources  of  the  West,  lying,  like  diamonds  in  a  Brazilian 
river  bed,  only  waiting  to  be  uncovered  and  brought  to  the  doors  of  the 
settlement,  to  bring  to  America  a  vast  population  and  wealth  that  should 
make  the  shining  shores  of  the  Indies  seem  pitiful.  He  saw,  too,  the  dan 
gers  arising  from  the  existence  of  alien  populations  on  either  hand,  the 
British  to  the  northward,  with  the  command  of  the  great  lakes  ;  the  Spanish 
to  the  southward,  with  the  Mississippi  offering  so  easy  a  highway  to  the 
sea.  In  all  these  he  saw  that  the  time  might  one  day  come  when  America 
should  lose  by  the  finesse  and  natural  advantages  of  her  neighbors,  what  she 
had  won  at  so  great  cost  of  blood  and  treasure, — the  whole  of  her  vast  inte 
rior  trade.  Beyond  this,  he  feared  for  the  political  allegiance  of  the  commu 
nities  which  were  yet  to  come  into  being  in  the  wilderness,  should  their 
commercial  connections  be  with  foreign  and  possibly  hostile  nations.  He 
was  no  prophet,  and  could  not  foretell  the  intervention  of  steam  in  the  set 
tlement  of  the  great  problem.  His  view  comprehended  the  rising  of  a 
mighty  people,  which  should  grow  from  year  to  year,  indefinitely,  and  thar 
the  improvement  of  water  communication,  and  the  extension  of  the  great 
highway  system,  were  the  only  possibilities  of  providing  for  this  great 
growth. 

Before  the  Revolution  Washington  had  carefully  considered  the  subject 
of  inland  communication,  and  had  become  convinced  of  the  feasibility  of 
easy  and  cheap  communication  between  the  waters  of  the  Potomac  and 
James  rivers  and  those  of  the  Monongahela  and  Ohio,  and  thence,  by  the 
construction  of  canals,  to  the  great  lakes.  He  had  great  confidence  that  this 
alone  was  necessary  to  attract  to  Virginia  a  great  volume  of  trade,  at 


238  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

once  to  develop  the  new  West  and  add  to  the  commerce  of  his  beloved 
state.  His  plan  was  discussed  in  private  circles,  and  received  with  so  much 
favor,  that  he  was  led  to  visit  Richmond  and  lay  the  matter  before  the  state 
legislature.  He  arrived  at  the  capital  on  the  I5th  of  November,  1784, 
and  wras  met  by  a  committee  of  five  members  of  the  House,  headed  by 
Patrick  Henry,  which  received  him  with  every  demonstration  of  profound 
respect  and  affection.  His  suggestions  were  received,  and  the  action  which 
resulted  was  the  first  systematic  step  in  the  great  series  of  internal 
improvements  undertaken  by  Virginia,  and  afterward  imitated  by  every 
state  in  the  country.  He  later  attended  a  meeting,  held  at  Annapolis, 
by  committees  from  the  states  of  Maryland  and  Virginia,  to  devise  means 
for  the  improvement  of  the  navigation  of  the  James  and  Potomac  rivers. 
Two  companies  were  formed  for  the  purpose,  and  he  was  made  president  of 
each.  In  addition,  it  was  voted  that  forty  shares  of  stock  of  the  James 
company,  and  one  hundred  shares  of  that  of  the  Potomac  company,  be  set 
aside  for  him,  as  an  indication  of  indebtedness  to  him  for  his  services  in  the 
matter.  He  had  thus  far  refrained  from  accepting  money,  or  its  equivalent, 
for  any  public  service,  yet  he  felt  that  to  decline  outright  the  generous 
offer  thus  made  would  be  to  slight  the  men  who  were  so  evidently  sincere. 
Hence  he  compromised  by  accepting  the  stock,  which  was  worth  about 
forty  thousand  dollars,  in  trust  for  some  educational  purpose.  Thus  it  was 
eventually  bestowed. 

Washington's  home  life  was  like  that  of  any  other  private  gentleman  of 
Virginia,  save  for  the  added  duties  of  hospitality  and  business  which  the 
veneration  and  love  of  his  countrymen  and  of  the  world  forced  upon  him. 
His  correspondence  was  immense,  and  he  was  obliged  to  employ  a  private 
secretary.  Constant  demands  that  he  should  sit  for  his  portrait  \vere  com 
plied  with,  and,  as  a  result,  the  world  has  a  magnificent  collection  of  repre 
sentations  of  his  face.  He  tells,  in  answer  to  a  letter  begging  for  a  sitting, 
how  he  was  at  first  restive  as  a  colt  under  the  saddle,  when  submitting  to 
the  process  ;  how  he  acceded  to  the  second  request  with  regret,  but  had  at 
last  come  to  go  to  the  artist's  chair  as  docilely  as  any  dray  horse  to  the 
thills.  To  his  farms,  of  more  than  three  thousand  six  hundred  acres  of  cul 
tivated  land,  he  gave  his  personal  attention,  arising  before  dawn,  and  imme 
diately  after  breakfast  making  a  tour  of  his  various  fields  in  the  saddle. 
Socially  he  was  wont  to  be  grave,  yet  would  often  unbend  and  sometimes 
laugh  most  heartily;  he  was  a  most  courteous  host;  by  his  family  and  ser 
vants  he  was  loved  and  respected,  never  feared.  His  will  was  so  absolutely 
the  law  of  the  household,  that  those  about  him  were  unconscious  of  the 
happy  despotism  under  which  they  lived.  He  stocked  his  farm  with  deer ; 
he  occasionally  followed  the  hounds  as,  when  but  a  stripling,  he  rode  beside 
the  sturdy  old  Fairfax.  As  he  had  proved  equal  to  the  emergencies  of  war, 
so  now,  with  rarer  greatness,  he  settled  himself  to  a  quiet  and  unostenta- 


HOME    LIFE    AND    PRIVATE    INTERESTS.  239 

tious  life  of  peace.  His  letters  during  that  period  are  full  of  the  odor  of 
the  fields;  he  seems  entirely  happy  in  his  life  and,  in  at  least  one  letter, 
avows  his  determination  to  pass  the  remainder  of  his  days  in  the  comfort  of 
domestic  life.  How  little  he  foresaw  the  future  !  Already  events  without  the 
charmed  environment  of  the  Mt.  Vernon  life,  had  aroused  his  deep  solici 
Uide.  The  Confederation  was  little  more  than  a  shadow.  Congress,  the 
creature  of  the  states,  was  powerless  to  enforce  its  own  measures.  The 
states  which  had  been  parties  by  representation,  to  the  peace  compact, 
refused  to  recognize  their  treaty  obligations.  Wild  schemes  of  agrarianism 
and  for  an  irredeemable  paper  currency  gained  consideration.  Washington 
kept  up  a  large  correspondence  with  Knox,  Lee,  and  others ;  writing  purely 
as  a  private  citizen,  and  arrogating  to  himself  no  especial  influence,  he  urged 
a  more  substantial  union,  and  the  endowment  of  Congress  with  sufficient 
powers  to  give  that  body  dignity  and  authority. 

The  result  of  the  public  agitation  arising  from  the  abuses  of  govern 
ment,  was  to  lead  to  the  forming  of  a  project  for  a  convention,  to  devise  a 
form  of  government,  and  to  frame  a  constitution  for  the  United  States. 
This  ripened,  and  Washington  was  named  to  head  the  Virginia  delegation. 
His  first  desire  was  to  evade  the  duty,  but  many  considerations — not  the 
least  of  which  was  that  the  popular  feeling  imputed  monarchial  sympathies 
to  such  as  did  not  take  an  active  part  in  advancing  the  aims  of  the  conven 
tion — united  in  causing  him  to  alter  his  mind,  and  accept  the  appointment. 
He  set  out  from  his  home  on  the  pth  of  May  to  attend  the  convention. 
It  was  his  desire  to  travel  without  any  ostentation,  but  the  spontaneous 
demonstrations  of  the  people  could  not  be  avoided.  He  was  not  suffered 
to  pass  through  any  town  without  some  indication  of  enthusiasm,  and  when 
he  reached  the  environs  of  Philadelphia,  was  met  by  an  escort  of  cavalry, 
under  General  St.  Clair,  and  was  constrained  to  mount  a  beautiful  white 
horse,  led  for  his  use,  and  make  a  kind  of  triumphal  entry. 

The  history  of  the  convention,  which  was  tardy  in  beginning  its  delibera 
tions,  and  continued  them  during  seven  hours  of  each  day  for  four  months, 
is  given  at  length  in  a  later  portion  of  this  work.  Washington  was  unani 
mously  chosen  its  president,  and  was  by  that  fact  cut  off  from  any  great 
active  part  in  the  deliberations  and  debates  of  the  body.  Yet  his  influence 
was  doubtless  efficiently  given  to  the  promotion  of  the  objects  which  he 
deemed  most  important  to  be  accomplished. 

After  the  adjournment  of  the  convention,  Washington  returned  to 
Mount  Vernon,  and  awaited  anxiously  the  necessary  ratification  of  the 
Constitution  by  nine  of  the  thirteen  colonies.  This,  in  due  time,  came, 
much  to  his  relief.  Even  before  the  ratification,  there  had  been  unmistak 
able  indications  of  a  popular  desire  to  make  Washington  president  of  the 
new  United  States.  This  was  a  new  source  of  anxiety,  and  there  is  no 
question  that  he  sincerely  considered  the  necessity  of  facing  the  question,— 


24O  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

much  more  of  answering  it  in  the  affirmative, — as  a  personal  misfortune.  His 
friends  and  the  best  friends  of  the  country,  anticipating  his  selection  and 
objections,  wrote  him  strong  and  urgent  letters  begging  him  to  accept  the 
honor,  should  it  be  offered.  Some  of  his  letters  on  the  subject  demand 
quotation.  The  following  was  written  in  answer  to  a  letter  received  from 
Colonel  Henry  Lee: 

"  The  event  to  which  you  allude,  may  never  happen.  This  considera 
tion,  alone,  would  supersede  the  expediency  of  announcing  any  definitive 
and  irrevocable  resolution.  You  are  among  the  small  number  of  those  who 
know  my  invincible  attachment  to  domestic  life,  and  that  my  sincerest  wish 
is  to  continue  in  the  enjoyment  of  it  solely,  until  my  final  hour.  But  the 
world  would  be  neither  so  well  instructed,  nor  so  candidly  disposed  as  to 
believe  me  uninfluenced  by  sinister  motives,  in  case  any  circumstance  should 
render  a  deviation  from  the  line  of  conduct  I  had  prescribed  to  myself 
indispensable ;  should  my  unfeigned  reluctance  to  accept  the  office,  be  over 
come  by  a  deference  for  the  reasons  and  opinions  of  my  friends,  might  I 
not,  after  the  declarations  I  have  made  (and  heaven  knows  they  were  made 
in  the  sincerity  of  my  heart)  in  the  judgment  of  the  impartial  world  and  of 
posterity,  be  chargable  with  levity  and  inconsistency,  if  not  with  rashness 
and  ambition.  Nay,  further,  would  there  not  be  some  apparent  foundation 
for  the  two  former  charges?  Now,  justice  to  myself  and  tranquility  of 
conscience  require  that  I  should  act  a  part,  if  not  above  imputation,  at 
least  capable  of  vindication.  Nor  will  you  conceive  me  to  be  too  solicitous 
for  reputation.  Though  I  prize,  as  I  ought,  the  good  opinion  of  my  fellow 
citizens,  yet,  if  I  know  myself,  I  would  not  seek  popularity  at  the  expense 
of  one  social  duty  or  moral  virtue.  While  doing  what  my  conscience 
informed  me  was  right,  as  it  respected  my  God,  my  country  and  myself,  I 
should  despise  all  the  party  clamor  and  unjust  censure  which  must  be 
expected  from  some  whose  personal  enmity  might  be  expected  from  their 
hostility  to  the  government.  I  am  conscious  that  I  fear  alone  to  give  any 
real  cause  for  obloquy,  and  that  I  do  not  dread  to  meet  with  unmerited 
reproach.  And,  certain  I  am,  whensoever  I  shall  be  convinced  the  good  of 
my  country  requires  my  reputation  to  be  put  in  risk,  regard  for  my  own 
fame  will  not  come  in  competition  with  an  object  of  such  magnitude.  If  1 
declined  the  task,  it  would  lie  upon  quite  another  principle.  Notwithstand 
ing  my  advanced  season  of  life,  my  increasing  fondness  for  agricultural 
amusements,  and  my  growing  love  of  retirement  augment  and  confirm  my 
decided  predilection  for  the  character  of  a  private  citizen,  yet  it  would  be  no 
one  of  these  motives,  nor  the  hazard  to  which  my  former  reputation  might 
be  exposed,  nor  the  terror  of  encountering  new  fatigues  and  troubles,  that 
would  deter  me  from  an  acceptance  •  but  a  belief  that  some  other  person, 
who  had  less  pretension  and  less  inclination  to  be  excused,  could  execute  all 
the  duties  full  as  satisfactorily  as  myself." 


HOME    Lirtc    AND    PRIVATE    INTERESTS.  24* 

In  writing  to  Colcnel  Alexander  Hamilton,  on  the  same  subject,  he 
says  : 

"  In  making  a  survey  of  the  subject,  in  whatever  point  of  light  I  have 
been  able  to  place  it,  I  have  always  felt  a  kind  of  gloom  upon  my  mind,  as 
often  as  I  have  been  taught  to  expect  I  might,  and  perhaps  must,  ere  long, 
be  called  upon  to  make  a  decision.  You  will,  I  am  sure,  believe  the  asser 
tion,  though  I  have  little  expectation  it  would  gain  credit  from  those  who 
are  less  acquainted  with  me,  that,  if  I  should  receive  the  appointment,  and 
if  I  should  be  prevailed  upon  to  accept  it,  the  acceptance  would  be  attended 
with  more  diffidence  and  reluctance  than  I  ever  experienced  before  in  my 
life.  It  would  be,  however,  with  a  fixed  and  sole  determination  of  lending 
whatever  assistance  might  be  in  my  power,  to  promote  the  public  weal,  in 
hopes  that,  at  a  convenient  and  early  period,  my  services  might  be  dispensed 
with,  and  that  I  might  be  permitted  once  more  to  retire,  to  pass  an 
unclouded  evening,  after  the  stormy  day  of  life,  in  the  bosom  of  domestic 
tranquility. " 

After  the  ratification  of  the  constitution,  Congress  appointed  the  first 
Wednesday  of  January,  1789,  as  a  day  for  holding  an  election,  and  the  first 
Wednesday  of  February  following,  for  the  meeting  of  the  electoral  college. 

On  the  latter  day,  Washington  was  duly  elected  President  for  the  four 
years  following  March  4,  1789.  This  vote  was,  by  reason  of  a  delay  in 
obtaining  a  quorum  of  Congress,  uncounted  until  early  in  April,  and,  on 
the  1 4th  of  the  same  month,  Washington  received  notice  that  he  was  unani 
mously  chosen  by  the  college.  Ere  this,  the  arguments  of  his  friends,  and 
his  own  careful  consideration,  had  combined  to  convince  him  that  it  was  his 
duty  to  accept  the  trust,  and,  on  the  i6th,  he  set  out  for  New  York  to  take 
the  oath  of  office.  His  journey  was  a  triumph  ;  his  reception  at  New  York 
an  ovation.  As  he  crossed  the  bay  from  Elizabethtown  point,  every  vessel 
in  the  harbor  saluted  him,  and  a  gay  procession  of  decked  and  garlanded 
barges  followed.  Arrived  in  the  city,  he  expressed  a  wish  to  walk  to  his 
lodgings,  and,  on  the  way,  was  compelled  again  and  again  to  pause  and 
uncover  before  the  enthusiastic  people,  bowing  his  acknowledgments  to 
the  ladies  who  showered  flowers  upon  him  from  the  upper  windows. 
On  the  3Oth  day  of  April,  at  noon,  the  city  soldiery  formed  before  his 
house,  and  escorted  him  to  the  hall  of  Congress,  where,  upon  the  open  bal 
cony,  before  the  Senate  chamber,  the  oath  of  office  was  administered  by 
the  chancellor  of  the  state  of  New  York.  Then  cannon  roared,  flags 
waved,  and  the  voices  of  thousands  united  in  acclaims  to  the  first  President 
of  die  United  States.  Entering  the  Senate  chamber,  he  delivered  his 
inaugural  address,  and  thence,  on  foot,  proceeded,  solemnly  and  reverently 
to  St.  Paul's  church,  where  prayers  were  raised  for  blessings  upon  the  work 
of  the  dav. 


242  GEORGE    WASHINGTON 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

THE  FIRST  PRESIDENCY. 

"TV  TATURALLY,  the  first,  while  it  was  the  least  important,  question, 
^^  which  met  Washington  at  the  outset  of  his  Presidential  career,  was 
that  of  the  etiquette  of  his  office.  There  were  no  social  canons  to  be  applied 
to  the  matter.  The  office  was  a  new  one,  and  without  parallel  in  the  his 
tory  of  nations,  and  he  was  menaced,  on  the  one  hand,  by  the  danger  of 
offending  the  people  by  too  much  pomp  and  display,  and,  on  the  other,  of 
sacrificing  its  dignity  by  making  too  small  account  of  the  usages  of  the 
world.  In  this  dilemma  he  appealed  to  those  about  him  who,  in  his 
view,  were  best  fitted  to  advise  in  so  delicate  a  matter.  The  first  of  these 
was  John  Adams,  who  had  been  for  several  years  the  holder  of  various  com 
missions  to  "the  politest  court  in  Europe."  The  second  was  Hamilton; 
the  others,  Jay  and  Madison.  But  two  of  the  written  reports,  made  in  def 
erence  to  this  request,  survive ;  the  first  is  that  of  John  Adams,  the  second 
that  of  Hamilton.  These  two  do  not  agree  in  all  points,  nor  do  they,  ac 
cording  to  modern  ideas,  disagree  in  any  essential  particular.  They  simply 
vary  as  to  the  number  of  receptions  to  be  given  weekly,  and  the  number  of 
hours  to  be  daily  devoted  by  the  President  to  miscellaneous  business  inter 
views.  Washington  finally  determined  for  himself,  that  he  would  give  one 
reception  a  week;  two  or  four  state  dinners  a  year,  and  informal  dinners 
upon  each  reception  day.  That  he  would  go  abroad  among  his  personal 
friends,  but  never  as  President;  that  his  hours  for  general  business  reception 
should  be  from  8  until  10  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  that  he  should  only 
be  constantly  accessible  to  members  of  his  cabinet  and  to  foreign  ministers. 
The  more  minute  regulation  of  etiquette  was  committed  to  Colonel  Hum 
phrey,  and  was,  in  some  respects,  modified  by  the  President,  as  he  con 
ceived  that  Humphrey's  life  at  the  court  of  France,  where  he  had  been  sec 
retary  of  Jefferson,  had,  in  a  measure,  turned  his  head.  Thus  much  is  said 
to  show  how  little  Washington  did,  concerning  this  important  matter,  with 


AKTIIfK    ST.  CI.AIH. 


THE    FIRST    PRESIDENCY. 

out  the  advice  of  those  about  him.  While  conscious  of  the  necessity  of 
maintaining  the  dignity  of  his  position,  he  was  equally  solicitous  of  avoiding 
idle  and  childish  parade,  and  the  appearance  of  having  been  carried  away 
with  his  advancement  to  the  Presidency.  How  important  were  these  pre 
cautions,  thrown  about  the  comparatively  trivial  matter  of  etiquette,  is 
clearly  shown  by  the  unsparing  criticisms  afterward  made  by  certain  ultra 
democratic  republicans,  upon  the  simple  and  decent  state  maintained  by  the 
President  of  the  United  States  and  his  lady.  Some  accused  the  latter  of 
holding  "queenly  drawing  rooms,"  and  "regal  assemblies;"  others  said 
there  was  greater  ceremony  at  New  York  than  at  the  court  of  St.  James, 
and  especially  among  the  sympathizers  with  the  French  revolution  there 
were  many  \vho  took  every  occasion  to  sneer  at  the  conduct  of  the  house 
hold.  These  latter  had  the  confidence  and  sympathy  of  no  less  a  man  than 
Thomas  Jefferson,  who,  though  scrupulously  respectful  to  the  name  and  per 
son  of  the  President,  could  not  resist  criticising  the  methods  of  his  house 
hold,  its  ceremonies  and  restrictions.  Jefferson  warmly  sympathized  with 
those  who  directed  the  revolution  of  '93,  and,  great  as  he  was,  could  hardly 
distinguish  between  form  and  substance;  could  scarcely  recognize  how  a 
laced  doublet  might  clothe  a  reformer,  and  a  black  coat  an  usurper. 

Mrs.  Washington  Came  from  Mount  Yernon  and  assumed  her  place  at  the 
head  of  the  Nation's  household;  this  she  maintained  to  the  end  with  that 
dignity,  apart  from  pretension,  and  that  courtesy,  quite  unlike  familiarity, 
which  combined  so  wonderfully  in  her,  and  marked  her  as  the  foremost 
hostess  in  America.  From  the  hour  of  her  coming,  the  weekly  levees  were 
crowded,  and  the  informal  dinner  parties,  given  upon  reception  nights,  were 
the  delight  of  the  fortunate  guests. 

Passing,  with  this  hint,  to  the  loth  of  September,  1/89,  the  reader  is 
brought  to  the  time  when  Congress  provided  for  the  institution  of  the 
department  of  foreign  affairs, — since  known  as  the  Department  of  State, — 
and  a  Department  of  War.  On  the  ensuing  day,  the  President  nominated 
General  Knox  to  be  Secretary  of  War.  Soon  after,  he  paid  the  highest 
compliment  ever  given  to  youth  in  the  United  States,  by  naming  Alexander 
Hamiton,  Secretary  of  the  Treasury.  The  financial  condition  of  America 
was  truly  alarming.  With  all  her  splendid  resources,  her  obligations  for  a 
few, — less  than  fifty, — paltry  millions  of  dollars,  were  unpaid,  uncollectable, 
and  sold  at  a  discount  upon  the  market  of  the  world.  To  the  untrodden 
paths  of  the  Nation's  finance,  the  President  appointed  Hamilton,  who,  in 
common  with  the  man  who  signed  his  commission,  had  a  chaos  to  reduce,  a 
system  to  create,  a  floating  debt  to  fund,  without  any  existing  system  of 
money-raising;  and  a  National  credit  to  drag  from  the  slough  of  depreciation 
and  repudiation  in  which  it  was  bemired,  and  place  upon  a  footing  which 
should  render  the  Government  at  once  effective  and  respectable. 

The  Department  of  Justice   was  next   organized,  and  its  port-folio  was 


244  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

offeree  to,  and  accepted  by,  Edmund  Randolph,  of  Virginia,  who  had 
refused  to  sign  the  constitution,  because  it  provided  for  a  single  head, 
instead  of  the  three  associated  executive  officers,  which  he  deemed  more 
safe  and  fitting.  He  had  afterward  supported  the  constitution  in  the  Vir 
ginia  legislature  and  voted  for  its  ratification.  The  Department  of  State 
remained.  In  casting  about  for  some  one  who  might  well  and  wisely  fill  its 
requirements,  Washington  settled  upon  Thomas  Jefferson.  The  latter 
was  not  yet  returned  from  France,  where  he  was  serving  as  minister  pleni 
potentiary,  but  was  on  his  way  to  America,  having  received  leave,  for  a 
time,  to  visit  his  home,  for  domestic  reasons.  Upon  his  return  he  accepted 
the  office,  and  entered  upon  the  discharge  of  its  duties.  Jefferson's  reasons 
for  acceptance ;  a  minute  account  of  his  subsequent  attitude;  the  history  of 
his  contest  with  Hamilton,  and  his  leadership  of  the  new  Democratic  party, 
are  discussed  in  his  biography,  at  a  later  page  of  this  volume. 

Already,  at  the  very  outset  of  the  new  experiment  in  government, 
there  had  come  into  being  embryo  parties,  divided  upon  vital  issues.  The 
first  were  warm  and  confident  friends  of  the  constitution ;  the  second  dis 
trusted  it,  deeming  that  it  represented  dangerous  tendencies  toward  centrali 
zation,  and  the  most  earnest,  and  not  the  least  honest  of  them,  holding  that 
its  framers  and  advocates  were  monarchists  at  heart,  and  would,  in  time,  add 
to  the  constitution  the  investment  of  a  king.  The  first  named  was  known 
as  the  Federalist  party,  and  Alexander  Hamilton  was  soon  its  recognized 
head.  In  opposition  was  the  Democratic  party,  with  states'  rights,  limita 
tion  of  the  power  of  the  executive,  and  restriction  of  the  functions  of  the 
general  government  strictly  within  the  limits  of  necessity,  as  its  principles. 
Jefferson  led  this  party,  and,  upon  any  party  test,  Edmund  Randolph  voted 
with  him.  That  Washington,  who,  while  a  friend  of  the  constitution,  was 
not  a  partisan,  recognized  this  tendency  to  party  crystalization,  is  unques 
tionable;  that  he  formed  his  cabinet  not  for  the  purpose  of  securing  so-called 
harmony,  and  invariable  coincidence  with  his  own  views,  but  that  he  might 
have  the  opinions  of  the  ablest  men  of  either  inclining,  is  equally  certain. 
Then,  too,  he  preferred  that,  should  there  be  a  contest,  its  leaders  should 
settle  it  by  discussion  within  the  cabinet,  rather  than  by  agitation  without. 
So  much  for  the  cabinet. 

Washington's  first  term  was  one  of  organization,  and  a  marvelously  suc 
cessful  one.  Its  salient  features  were  the  financial  schemes  of  Hamilton. 
Beyond  these  there  was  little  of  interest,  and  even  they  cannot  be  discussed 
at  length.  Reducing  them  to  episodes,  they  were:  the  funding  of  the  pub 
lic  debt,  involving  the  assumption  of  debts  contracted  by  the  various  states, 
in  the  prosecution  of  the  late  war ;  the  imposition  of  imposts  and  excise 
duties,  to  provide  means  for  the  payment  of  the  principal  and  interest  of 
national  indebtedness ;  and  the  establishment  of  a  national  bank.  These 
plans  required  much  time  for  their  execution,  and  were  only  carried  into 


THE    FIRST    PRESIDENCY. 


245 


effect  in  the  face  of  the  bitterest  opposition.  The  first  named  met  with  the 
decided  disfavor  of  some  sections,  especially  of  the  South,  it  being  openly 
asserted  that  the  assumption  of  the  state  debts  was  but  part  of  a  plan  advo 
cated  by  the  Northern  and  Eastern  states,  which  were  thus  made  large 
creditors  of  the  government,  and  had  determined  to  collect  their  debts 
through  the  agency  of  their  representatives  in  Congress.  The  measure  was 
only  passed  by  a  vote  of  fourteen  to  twelve  in  the  Senate,  and  the  decisive 
voices  came  from  Virginia,  which  was  friendly  to  the  administration  at  that 
time,  by  reason  of  the  provision  made  that  the  capital  should  be  temporarily 
— for  ten  years — located  at  Philadelphia,  and,  during  that  time,  a  site  should 
be  selected  and  buildings  erected  upon  the  Potomac  river,  for  the  permanent 
.accommodation  of  the  government.  Thus  was  taken  the  first  step  toward 
vhe  financial  establishment  of  America. 

The  proposal  for  imposts  and  excise  met  with  no  less  opposition. 
.\ffecting  the  importation  and  domestic  manufacture  of  liquor,  it  was  warmly 
contested  in  Congress,  and  when,  having  been  adopted  by  a  small  majority, 
Jt  was  placed  upon  the  statute  books,  there  began  that  constant  and  deter 
mined  evasion  of  its  provisions  which  has  never  since  ceased.  Yet  the  fund- 
rng  of  the  debt  and  the  collection  of  a  revenue  were  thus  provided  for. 
For  the  securing  of  a  stable  currency  and  the  relief  of  the  immediate  finan 
cial  needs  of  the  country,  there  was  introduced,  upon  the  reassembling  of 
congress  at  Philadelphia  in  1790,  a  project  for  the  organization  of  a 
national  bank.  These  pages  are  not  suited  to  the  discussion  of  the  economical 
question  involved  in  the  establishment  of  such  a  bank.  Jefferson  opposed 
the  project  with  all  his  heart  and  soul.  He  held  that  paper  currency,  while 
it  might  be  convenient,  tended  to  encourage  speculation,  unsettle  values, 
and  to  make  the  people  a  prey  to  speculators  and  financial  tricksters.  From 
*hese  opinions  he  never  receded,  yet  there  was,  at  the  time,  a  second  and 
powerful  reason  for  his  opposition.  He  distrusted  Hamilton's  political 
principles,  and  he  saw,  in  the  banking  scheme,  a  stupendous  possibility  of 
increasing  the  power  and  influence  of  the  treasury,  and  making  it  the  basis 
for  the  increase  of  the  central  power,  to  the  possible  overturning  of  the 
republic  and  the  establishment  of  a  monarchy.  He  did  not  doubt  Washing 
ton,  nor  did  he  question  the  sincerity  of  Hamilton's  convictions,  but  regard 
ing  the  latter  as  the  American  incarnation  of  the  monarchial  principle,  and 
fearing  that  the  President's  confidence  in  the  man  might  blind  him  to  political 
methods,  the  consequences  of  which  he  could  not  but  regard  as  necessarily 
pernicious,  Jefferson  opposed  Hamilton  and  his  plans,  day  by  day,  with 
greater  vigor.  He  himself  says  that  they  were  daily  pitted  against  each 
other,  in  cabinet  meetings,  like  two  cocks, — Jefferson  supported  by  Ran 
dolph  ;  Hamilton,  by  Knox.  This  state  of  affairs  aroused  grave  anxiety  in 
the  mind  of  Washington.  He  kept  an  even  course  in  the  cabinet;  used  his 
influence  to  quiet  the  discords  which  distracted  it:  retained  Jefferson  as  a 


246  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

member,  when  he  was  almost  determined  to  give  up  his  port-folio,  and, 
while  he  personally  approved  Hamilton's  policy,  and  signed  the  bills  passed 
by  Congress  to  carry  it  into  effect,  kept  the  confidence  and  esteem  of  every 
member  of  his  political  family.  The  disagreements  between  his  two  princi 
pal  cabinet  officers  continued.  It  was  a  subject  of  remark  in  public,  of 
comment  in  the  press,  and,  finally,  of  personal  contest  between  the  two,  in 
the  gazettes.  Then  the  president  interfered,  made  personal  appeals  to 
each,  and  succeeded  in  modifying  their  acts  and  words,  if  he  could  not  remove 
the  personal  feeling  between  them. 

Twice,  during  his  first  term,  Washington  made  extensive  journeys, — 
once  to  New  England ;  once  as  far  south  as  Savannah,  Georgia.  These 
were  undertaken  partially  for  pleasure,  and  more  in  pursuance  of  a  settled 
and  characteristic  determination  to  make  himself  familiar  with  the  geograph 
ical,  social,  political,  and  industrial  interests  of  his  country.  He  traveled 
quietly  in  his  carriage,  always  striving  to  escape  the  formality  of  public 
receptions, — almost  invariably  compelled  to  submit  to  them. 

During  all  the  momentous  progress  of  the  revolution  in  France,  he 
maintained  an  active  correspondence  with  Lafayette,  whose  prominent  part 
in  the  great  political  drama  entitled  him  to  speak  with  authority.  Feeling 
deep  interest  in  France,  Washington  could  not  but  sympathize  with  the 
wishes  of  the  best  of  the  popular  leaders — men  like  Lafayette, — that  she 
should  have  a  constitution,  yet  he  felt,  and  frequently  expressed,  a  fear  that 
the  lawless  element  of  the  people,  which  eventually  precipitated  the  terrible 
outrage  and  bloodshed  of  the  days  of  August,  might  wreck  the  plans  of  those 
better  advised  but  less  numerous  than  they.  The  event  was  more  a  shock 
than  a  surprise  to  him,  for,  while  feeling  how  important  to  the  American 
political  experiment  was  a  moderate  exercise  of  the  popular  power  in  France, 
he  had  felt  little  confidence  that  such  would  be  secured. 

Early  in  his  term,  wearied  with  strife  and  bickering,  weak  in  body  from 
illness  which  closely  menaced  his  life,  Washington  had  developed  a  sincere 
desire  to  give  up  his  charge  when  the  four  years  of  his  service  should  have 
expired.  The  more  he  thought,  and  the  farther  proceeded  the  struggle  of  the 
time,  the  more  strong  became  this  longing  for  the  regretted  tranquility  of 
his  home  life.  He  felt  that  years  of  hard  work  had  told  upon  his  bodil> 
strength,  and  he  had  a  sensitive  fear  lest  there  should  be  a  corresponding 
mental  decadence,  affecting  his  efficiency,  and  visible  to  the  world,  which  he 
could  not  detect.  Feeling  thus,  he  appealed  to  Madison,  in  whose  honesty 
and  good  judgment  he  had  the  greatest  confidence,  to  know  whether  he  was 
called  upon  to  make  an  avowal  of  his  intentions  ;  whether,  if  such  were 
necessary,  that  avowal  should  be  in  writing,  or  verbally  communicated,  and 
requesting,  should  a  written  announcement  be  deemed  suitable,  that  Madi 
son  should  formulate  it.  He,  at  the  same  time,  suggested  certain  heads  to 
be  embodied  in  the  communication.  Madison  answered  by  protesting 


THE    FIRST    PRESIDENCY.  2.J./ 

against  his  withdrawal  from  public  life  at  so  critical  a  time,  but  expressed 
his  judgment  that,  should  the  decision  be  irrevocable,  an  announcement 
and  farewell  address,  in  writing,  should  be  simultaneously  promulgated,  and 
submitted  a  draft  of  the  latter.  The  knowledge  of  an  intention,  on  his 
part,  to  retire  from  public  life,  led  Washington's  confidential  friends  and 
advisers,  of  the  most  diverse  opinions,  to  unite  in  urging  him  to  defer  such 
action,  and  to  allow  his  appreciation  of  public  exigencies  to  overrule  his 
inclination.  Jefferson,  Hamilton,  Knox,  and  Randolph,  and  many  without 
the  cabinet,  so  expressed  themselves.  In  the  meantime,  external  events 
had  their  influence;  the  opposition  to  the  excise  laws,  in  western  Pennsyl 
vania,  had  made  necessary  an  act  of  Congress,  authorizing  the  President  to 
call  out  the  militia,  for  the  enforcement  of  the  law.  Loth  to  resort  to 
extreme  measures,  Washington  issued  a  proclamation,  calling  upon  the 
people  to  desist  from  unlawful  combinations  and  proceedings,  and  directed 
all  magistrates  of  the  state  to  bring  offenders  to  justice.  Me  anticipated 
the  necessity  for  further  action,  which  afterwards  arose;  the  war  in  the 
cabinet,  and  the  uncompleted  application  of  new  measures,  united  with  the 
arguments  of  his  friends  to  convince  him  that  it  was  still  his  duty  to  servo 
the  nation,  hence,  after  painful  consideration  he  determined,  if  such  should 
be  the  will  of  the  people,  to  again  accept  the  charge  which  had  been  so 
heavy  a  burthen,  and  was,  for  a  second  time,  elected  President  of  the 
United  States. 


24  8  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

THE  SECOND  PRESIDENTIAL  TERM. 

ON  the  4th  of  March,  1793,  Washington,  for  a  second  time,  took  the 
oath  of  office.  Before  its  administration,  he  said:  "I  am  again 
called  upon  by  the  voice  of  my  country,  to  execute  the  functions  of  its 
chief  magistrate.  When  the  occasion,  proper  for  it,  shall  arrive,  I  shall 
endeavor  to  express  the  high  sense  I  entertain  of  this  distinguished  honor, 
and  of  the  confidence  which  has  been  reposed  in  me  by  the  people  of  the 
United  States.  Previous  to  the  execution  of  any  official  act  of  the  Presi 
dent,  the  constitution  requires  an  oath  of  office.  This  oath  I  am  now  about 
to  take,  and  in  your  presence,  that,  if  it  shall  be  proved,  during  my  admin 
istration  of  the  government,  I  have  in  any  instance  violated,  willingly  or 
knowingly,  any  of  the  injunctions  thereof,  I  may,  besides  incurring  consti 
tutional  punishment,  be  subjected  to  the  upbraidings  of  all  who  are  now 
witnesses  of  the  present  solemn  ceremony." 

John  Adams  was  again  Vice-President,  and  the  administration'opened 
with  the  same  cabinet  which  had  advised  the  President  during  his  former 
term.  The  first  difficulty  which  faced  the  administration  was  that  arising 
from  the  terrible  condition  of  French  affairs.  Louis  XVI.  had  fled,  and 
been  recaptured  ;  the  monarchy  was  overthrown  ;  Paris,  and  all  France,  was 
red  with  the  blood  of  victims  of  the  "summary  justice"  of  the  mob.  Lafay 
ette  was  too  conservative ;  he  first  lost  influence,  and,  later,  as  Governeur 
Morris,  minister  of  the  United  States  to  the  destroyed  monarchy,  said, 
would  have  been  torn  to  pieces,  had  he  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  red- 
handed  sans-culottcs.  Then  the  king,  later  the  innocent  queen,  was 
beheaded ;  then  came  the  republic  of  Robespierre  and  Marat,  the  fall  of  one 
city  after  another  before  the  army  of  the  people — then  war  with  Eng 
land.  The  unthinking  people  of  the  United  States  still  were  clamorous  for 
an  alliance  with  France,  and  eager  to  wreck  their  new  nationality  by  inter 
ference  in  a  European  war;  they  regarded  the  republic  of  France  as  heir  to 


THE    SECOND    PRESIDENTIAL    TEfvM.  249 

the  debt  of  gratitude  which  America  had  owed  to  the  murdered  king. 
Washington  called  a  cabinet  council  to  consider  the  attitude  of  America 
toward  the  belligerent  powers.  Even  Jefferson,  more  than  half  a  Jacobin, 
could  see  how  disastrous  intervention  must  prove,  and  the  cabinet  was 
unanimous  against  it.  It  was,  however,  determined  to  recognize  the 
republic,  and  to  receive  any  minister  which  it  might  accredit  to  the  United 
States. 

Notice  soon  came,  that  Citizen  Genet  had  been  named  as  minister  of 
France,  and  his  coming  was  looked  for  with  a  curiosity  not  unmixed  with 
apprehension,  as  Morris  had  given  notice  that  he  bore  with  him  a  large 
number  of  commissions  for  privateers,  signed  in  blank,  and  intended 
endeavoring  to  enlist  adventurous  American  sailors  against  the  shipping  of 
Great  Britain.  To  guard  against  such  action — the  cabinet  concurring— 
Washington  issued  his  famous  proclamation,  commanding  all  American 
citizens  to  maintaii  a  strict  neutrality  between  the  contending  powers.  The 
policy  then  adopted  has  ever  since  been  adhered  to,  by  America,  and  has 
proved  her  salvation,  but,  so  blind  was  the  enthusiasm  of  the  people,  it  was 
then  received  with  a  discontent,  at  first  restrained  by  respect  for  Washing 
ton,  but  gradually  growing  into  murmurs,  protests,  and  final  indignant 
demonstration.  Even  his  great  service  and  well  established  position  in  the 
affection  of  his  countrymen,  did  not  save  him  from  private  abuse  and  public 
caricature,  ridicule,  and  insult,  which  never  ceased  until  the  question 
ceased  to  be  one  of  living  interest.  Yet  no  act  of  his  long  and  useful  life 
better  deserves  the  gratitude  of  his  people,  than  the  making  of  this  procla 
mation  and  the  firmness  with  which  the  principles  therein  enunciated  were 
maintained. 

Before  news  of  the  proclamation  had  reached  all  parts  of  the  Union. 
Genet  arrived  in  America,  not  coming,  as  is  the  custom  of  diplomacy,  to 
the  most  convenient  port,  making  haste  to  the  capital,  presenting  his  cre 
dentials  and  asking  recognition,  but  sailing  in  a  French  man-of-war  to  Charles 
ton.  There  he  was  received  with  the  wildest  enthusiasm — enthusiasm  which 
turned  his  head,  and  led  him  to  forget  the  obligations  of  his  position,  and 
issue  commissions  to  several  privateers.  From  Charleston  to  Philadelphia 
his  journey  was  a  triumph, — more  like  a  royal  progress,  than  the  passage  of 
a  simple  "citizen"  of  the  French  republic.  He  arrived  at  the  capital,  and 
on  the  igtli  of  May,  1/93,  presented  his  letters,  and,  in  spite  of  his  indis 
creet  actions,  which  had  already  been  made  a  subject  of  complaint  by  the 
British  minister,  was  received  with  courtesy. 

The  frigate  Ambuscade,  which  brought  Genet  to  America,  captured  a 
British  merchantman  off  the  capes  of  the  Delaware,  in  American  waters,  and 
brought  the  prize  to  Philadelphia.  Other  vessels  were  captured  on  the 
high  seas,  by  the  privateers  fitted  out  at  Charleston,  and  were  brought  into 
American  ports.  The  British  minister  demanded  the  restitution  of  these 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

vessels.  The  cabinet  unanimously  determined  that  the  first  mentioned  be 
returned,  but  was  divided  as  to  those  taken  at  sea,  Hamilton  and  Knox 
favoring  a  like  action  in  those  cases,  while  Jefferson  and  Randolph  desired 
to  submit  the  matter  to  the  courts.  This  was  finally  determined  upon,  and, 
at  the  same  time,  the  governments  of  France  and  Great  Britain  were  formally 
notified  of  the  determination  of  America,  not  only  to  maintain  a  position  of 
neutrality  as  a  nation,  but  to  compel  its  citizens  to  regard  the  same. 

Genet  was  very. indignant  at  this  determination;  he  accused  the  Presi 
dent  of  exceeding  his  authority,  and  threatened  an  appeal  to  the  people, 
whom  he  knew  to  be  with  him.  The  arrest  of  two  American  citizens  for 
enlisting  upon  a  privateer,  and  their  imprisonment  to  await  trial,  added  to 
his  anger,  and  drew  from  him  a  very  lofty,  if  not  impudent,  letter  to  the 
Secretary  of  State,  which  did  not  secure  any  modification  of  the  position  of 
the  government.  Subsequent  words  and  acts  of  Genet  placed  him  beyond 
the  pale  of  even  official  indulgence.  A  vessel  captured  by  a  French  cruiser, 
was  brought  to  Philadelphia,  during  the  absence  of  Washington,  armed, 
fitted  as  a  privateer,  and  manned  with  American  seamen.  The  state  authori 
ties  of  Pennsylvania,  in  compliance  with  a  request  addressed  by  Washing 
ton  to  them,  in  common  with  the  governments  of  the  other  states,  prepared 
to  forcibly  prevent  the  sailing  of  the  ship.  This  resulted  in  an  interview 
between  Genet  and  Jefferson,  in  which  the  Secretary  of  State  requested  that 
the  vessel  be  detained  until  the  President  should  have  returned.  Genet 
evaded  making  a  promise,  but  led  Jefferson  to  understand  that  he  acquiesced, 
yet  the  privateer  dropped  to  Chester,  and  thence,  after  the  return  of  Wash 
ington,  but  before  any  action  could  be  taken,  put  to  sea.  This  deliberate 
defiance  of  the  American  government,  on  the  part  of  Genet,  taken  in  con 
nection  with  the  increasingly  insolent  tone  of  his  official  communications, 
led  to  a  demand  for  his  recall  by  the  French  government,  though,  to  pre 
vent  inconvenience,  it  was  arranged  that  his  communications  should  be 
received  in  writing,  pending  the  arrival  of  a  successor.  The  executive  coun 
cil  of  the  French  republic  did  not  undertake  to  excuse  its  minister,  but 
recalled  him,  and  accredited  M.  Fauchet.  Genet  was  in  New  York  at  the 
time  he  learned  of  the  demand  for  his  recall,  and  became  so  abusive  that  the 
cabinet  was  obliged,  at  last,  to  cease  even  written  communication  with  him. 
He  then  again  began  to  talk  of  appealing  to  the  people,  and  thus  so  alarmed 
the  national  pride  of  many  who  had  been  his  friends,  that  he  lost  his  influ 
ence,  and  found  himself  in  a  minority.  He  afterward  married  a  daughter 
of  George  Clinton,  and  passed  the  remainder  of  his  life  in  New  York.* 

Jefferson  had  yielded  to  Washington's  request  that  he  should  withhold 
his  resignation  of  the  secretaryship  of  state,  only  on  condition  that  it 
should  be  accepted  at  the  close  of  the  year  1/93.  On  the  3ist  day  of 

•See  Life  of  Jefferson,  for  further  particulars  of  this  affair. 


THE    SECOND    PRESIDENTIAL    TEl'.M.  25! 

December  he  forwarded  it  to  the  President,  who  was  fain  to  accept  it. 
Edmund  Randolph  was  named  and  confirmed  his  successor,  and  William 
Bradford,  of  Pennsylvania,  assumed  the  vacant  attorney  generalship. 

Great  Britain  showed  little  appreciation  of  the  efforts  of  the  Govern 
ment  of  the  United  States  to  maintain  its  neutrality.  A  blockade  was 
made  against  France,  and  all  vessels  laden  with  grain  and  provisions  were 
seized,  their  cargoes  sold  in  England,  and  the  money  paid  to  the  owners,  or 
their  disposal  in  some  neutral  port  compelled.  Americans  suffered  seriously 
by  this  policy,  and  there  was  so  great  feeling  that  war  seemed  inevitable. 
This  bitterness  was  heightened  by  the  frequent  impressment  of  American 
seamen,  for  service  in  the  British  navy.  Fortunately  there  came  fiom 
Pinckney,  American  minister  to  England,  news  that  the  blockade  had  been 
lifted,  and  that  the  British  minstry  had  explained  that,  while  American 
shipping  had  suffered,  it  had  been  only  in  common  with  that  of  other 
nations,  and  there  had  been  no  intention  to  injure  America  more  than  was 
unavoidable.  This  prevented  the  precipitation  of  a  war. 

Still  the  cry  of  the  friends  of  France  was  that  the  insult  to  America 
should  be  avenged,  and,  to  counteract  this  influence,  \Yashington  deter- 
mined  to  send  a  special  envoy  to  England,  to  represent  to  that  government 
the  damage  done  America,  and  demand  indemnification.  This  plan  was 
loudly  condemned  by  the  incendiary  part}',  as  cowardly  and  beneath  the 
dignity  of  the  United  States,  and  this  clamor  became  doubly  loud,  when 
the  name  of  Hamilton,  the  leading  Federalist,  was  unofficially  mentioned 
in  connection  with  the  mission.  Washington  was  not  wont  to  be  influenced 
by  the  popular  outcry.  The  project  was  carried  out,  and  John  Jay  named 
and  confirmed  as  envoy.  Nevertheless,  the  House  of  Representatives 
passed  a  resolution  to  cut  off  all  communication  with  England,  and  only 
the  casting  vote  of  the  Vice  President  defeated  the  measure  in  the  Senate. 
At  very  nearly  the  same  time,  the  French  government  requested,  as  an  act  of 
reciprocity,  that  Governeur  Morris,  whose  ideas  were  too  aristocratic  for  their 
ideas,  be  recalled  from  France.  Though  Morris  had  given  entire  satisfaction 
to  America,  and  still  possessed  the  confidence  of  the  President  and  cabinet, 
it  was  deemed  best  to  recall  him,  and  James  Monroe  was  named  in  his 
stead. 

During  the  continuance  of  the  French  revolution,  there  had  grown  up 
in  America  a  number  of  democratic  societies,  modeled  on  the  Jacobin  clubs 
of  Paris.  The  effect  of  these  had  been  to  stimulate  the  growth  of  a  false 
independence,  which  tended  to  the  defiance  of  authority.  A  practical  effect 
of  this  was  seen  in  August,  1794,  when  the  dissatisfaction  with  the  excise 
laws,  which  had  evoked  a  proclamation  from  Washington  during  his  first 
term,  resulted  in  open  revolt  of  certain  citizens  of  western  Pennsylvania. 
Indictments  having  been  obtained  against  some  of  the  violators  of  the  law, 
an  officer  was  despatched  to  arrest  them.  Upon  the  road  he  was  fired  upop 


252  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

and  barely  escaped  with  his  life.  The  house  of  the  inspector  of  revenue 
was  then  attacked,  but  the  mob  was  repulsed.  Withdrawing,  it  obtained 
new  force  and  returned.  As  the  local  militia  had  shown  little  disposition  to 
attack  the  rioters,  a  small  guard  from  Fort  Pitt  had  been  stationed  in  the 
house.  This  was  compelled  to  march  out  and  ground  arms,  but  the 
inspector  and  marshal  fortunately  evaded  their  assailants,  and  escaped  down 
the  Ohio  to  a  place  of  safety. 

Upon  learning  of  this  outrage,  Washington  issued  a  proclamation,  call 
ing  upon  the  insurgents  to  disperse  to  their  homes  before  the  first  day  of 
the  ensuing  September,  or  force  would  be  brought  against  them  to  compel 
submission.  It  was  then  openly  boasted  that  they  could  and  would  bring 
seven  thousand  men  into  the  field,  and  oppose  any  effort  to  coerce  them. 
Washington  was  not  slow  in  responding  to  this  challenge.  He  made  a 
requisition  upon  the  states  of  Pennsylvania,  New  Jersey,  and  Maryland,  for 
militia,  and  placed  the  whole  under  "Light  Horse  Harry"  Lee,  then  gov 
ernor  of  Virginia.  The  veteran  major-general,  Morgan,  volunteered  to 
accompany  the  expedition,  which  moved  during  the  month  of  September, 
numbering  fifteen  thousand  men.  The  approach  of  such  a  force  was  too 
much  for  the  insurgents,  who  threw  down  their  arms  and  begged  for 
mercy.  Some  were  tried  for  treason,  but  none  convicted,  and,  so  far  as 
the  participants  were  concerned,  the  affair  ended  with  the  leaving  of  a  small 
body  of  men,  under  General  Morgan,  in  the  district.  It  did  not,  however, 
end  there  with  Washington.  In  his  next  message  to  Congress,  he  boldly 
threw  down  the  gauntlet  to  the  Jacobin  societies,  charging  them  with  the 
responsibility  for  the  insurrection,  and  condemning  them  as  pernicious  in 
the  highest  degree.  The  result  was  exactly  what  he  had  doubtless  antici 
pated.  It  aroused  the  democratic  members  of  both  houses,  and  in  the 
House  of  Representatives,  that  clause  of  the  message  was  passed  with 
pointed  silence.  The  societies  had,  however,  received  a  death  blow  in  the 
downfall  and  execution  of  Robespierre,  and  shortly  sank  into  disrepute,  both 
in  France  and  America.  Especially  in  the  United  States,  the  native  sense 
of  the  people  made  this  downfall  most  speedy  and  complete. 

On  the  2Oth  day  of  January,  1795,  Hamilton  performed  the  last  act  of 
his  life  as  Secretary  of  the  Treasury,  in  proposing  an  admirably  digested 
plan  for  the  redemption  of  the  public  debt,  and,  in  furtherance  of  a  long 
cherished  desire,  retired  to  private  life.  Washington  had  been  constantly  ac 
customed  to  his  advice  and  assistance  for  more  than  ten  years,  and  the  regret 
which  he  felt  at  losing  him  was  only  tempered  by  the  happy  prospect  of  so 
soon  following  his  example.  Knox,  too,  retired  from  the  Cabinet  at  the 
close  of  December,  and  only  Randolph,  of  its  original  members,  remained. 
This,  though  a  lesser  loss,  was  nevertheless  keenly  felt.  Washington  named 
Oliver  Wolcott,  of  Connecticut,  for  the  treasury,  and  Timothy  Pickering 
for  the  war  office,  and  both  were  confirmed.  The  most  anxious  solicitude 


THE    SECOND    PRESIDENTIAL    TERM. 

pervaded  the  President's  mind  regarding  the  negotiation  of  Mr.  Jay,  for  a 
settlement  of  commercial  differences  with  England.  He  knew  he  had  gravely 
imperiled  his  popularity  by  entering  into  the  negotiation,  and  that  its  fail 
ure  would  be  certain  to  result  unpleasantly  to  him.  Beyond  this,  and  far 
more  important,  he  felt  that  the  peace  and  prosperity  of  the  country 
depended  upon  a  happy  issue  of  the  affair.  The  treaty  was  finally  arranged 
between  Mr.  Jay  and  the  British  commissioners,  on  the  I9th  of  November, 
1794,  but  the  copy  sent  on  for  ratification  was  only  received  on  the  5th  of 
March,  1795,  four  days  after  Congress  adjourned.  The  President  at  once 
gave  it  a  most  critical  examination,  and  found  it  to  be,  as  he  had  anticipated, 
an  affair  of  give  and  take.  Nevertheless,  he  felt  that  the  United  States  was 
promised  advantages  which  would  more  than  outweigh  her  concessions, 
hence  he  determined  to  ratify  the  treat)-  should  it  be  approved  by  the  Sen 
ate.  The  Senate  being  convened  on  the  8th  day  of  June,  took  up  the 
treaty,  article  by  article,  and  with  closed  doors  discussed  it  most  laboriously 
It  was  desired  to  keep  its  matter  from  public  knowledge  until  it  had  been 
acted  upon,  yet  much  was  reported  concerning  it,  and  principally  regarding 
the  features  most  open  to  objection.  The  result  was  to  raise  a  most  unrea 
sonable  storm,  and  to  bring  down  upon  the  head  of  Washington  abuse  more 
bitter  and  hard  to  bear  than  any  of  that  which  had  ever  before  been  directed 
at  him.  Finally,  a  Democratic  Senator  gave  an  abstract  of  the  document 
to  an  opposition  paper  of  Philadelphia,  and  it  was  published,  adding  fuel  to 
the  already  furious  flame  of  public  feeling.  Yet  the  Senate  confirmed  the 
treaty,  save  one  article,  the  effect  of  which  was  to  limit  the  trade  of  the 
Southern  states,  and  with  the  West  Indies.  Violent  public  demonstrations 
against  the  treaty  were  made  in  all  the  larger  cities  and  towns,  and,  at  New 
York  and  Philadelphia  it  was  burned — in  the  latter  city,  before  the  house  ol 
the  British  minister. 

To  one  of  Washington's  sensitive  honor  and  consciousness  of  perfect 
rectitude,  this  was  sufficiently  trying  to  excuse  him  for  ardently  desiring 
escape  from  his  unsought  office.  Yet  there  was  another  heavy  trial  awaiting 
him.  While  he  was  considering  the  question  as  to  ratifying  the  treat}',  he 
learned  that  England  had  renewed  the  order  as  to  the  interception  of  vessels 
bound  for  French  ports.  Directing  that  a  strong  memorial  be  drawn  up  and 
dispatched  to  England,  protesting  against  its  action,  he  retired  to  Mount 
Vernon,  there  to  snatch  a  few  days  of  much  needed  rest.  He  had  been  at 
home  but  a  short  time  when  he  received  a  mysterious  letter  from  Pinckney 
Secretary  of  the  Navy,  urging  him  to  come  at  once  to  Philadelphia,  and  to 
do  no  important  executive  act  until  he  should  reach  that  city.  Such  a 
message  did  not  permit  of  delay,  and  he  answered  the  summons  at  once. 
Pinckney  then  laid  before  him  a  dispatch  of  Fauchet,  late  French  minister, 
recently  supplanted  by  M.  Adet.  This  was  an  official  communication  writ 
ten  to  his  government,  and  had  been  found  upon  a  captured  French  privateer, 


254  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

sent  to  Lord  Granville,  and  the  latter,  finding  that  it  referred  to  the  relations 
between  Fauchct  and  Randolph,  Secretary  of  State,  had  forwarded  it  to 
America.  This  intercepted  dispatch  contained  the  following  words,  written 
in  the  confidence  of  official  intercourse,  and  referring  to  the  Pennsylvania 
insurrection  and  proclamation:  "Two  or  three  days  before  the  proclamation 
was  published,"  he  wrote,  "and,  of  course,  before  the  cabinet  had  resolved 
on  its  measures,  the  Secretary  of  State  came  to  my  house.  All  his  counte 
nance  was  grief.  He  requested  of  me  a  private  conversation.  It  was  all 
over,  he  said  to  me ;  a  civil  war  was  about  to  ravage  our  unhappy  country. 
Four  men,  by  their  talents,  their  influence  and  their  energy,  may  save  it. 
But,  debtors  of  English  merchants,  they  will  be  deprived  of  their  liberty, 
if  they  take  the  smallest  step.  Could  you  lend  them,  instantaneously,  funds 
to  shelter  them  from  English  prosecution.  The  inquiry  astounded  me 
much.  It  was  impossible  for  me  to  make  a  proper  answer.  You  know  my 

want  of  power  and  deficiency  in  pecuniary  means Thus,  with 

some  thousands  of  dollars,  the  republic  could  have  decided  on  civil  war  or 
peace.  Thus  tJic  consciences  of  tJie  pretended  patriots  of  America  Jiave  already 
their  price.  What  will  be  the  old  age  of  this  government,  if  it  is  thus  already 
decrepit!" 

This  extraordinary  communication  could  not  but  excite  the  gravest 
solicitude  in  the  mind  of  Washington.  Yet  he  determined  to  dispatch 
business  in  its  order,  and  called  a  cabinet  meeting  to  consider  as  to  the  rati 
fication  of  the  British  treaty.  The  matter  had  been  before  discussed,  and 
the  opinion  of  the  cabinet  had  been  unanimously  in  favor  of  ratification. 
Now  Randolph  opposed  it,  claiming  that,  since  the  re-establishment  of  the 
unjust  and  damaging  blockade  against  French  bound  vessels,  consideration 
of  the  Jay  treaty  should  be  postponed  until  the  war  between  England  and 
France  was  concluded.  Randolph  was  probably  quite  sincere  in  this  rec 
ommendation,  but,  taken  in  consideration  with  the  Fauchet  letter,  it  had  a 
bad  look.  Nothing,  however,  was  done  until  the  following  day,  when,  as 
Randolph  entered  the  cabinet,  Washington,  who  was  in  company  with  his 
other  ministers,  handed  him  the  letter,  and  requested  an  explanation. 
Randolph  read  the  letter  and,  requesting  time  to  prepare  an  answer,  with 
drew.  On  the  same  day  he  wrote  Washington,  regretting  the  withdrawal 
of  confidence,  asserting  his  own  worthiness  of  it,  and  denying  that  he  had 
ever,  personally  or  through  another,  made  an  overture  to  M.  Fauchet,  for  the 
procuring  of  money,  nor  had  the  French  minister  directly  or  indirectly  paid 
him  one  shilling.  He  concluded  by  requesting  secrecy  until  he  should  be 
prepared  with  his  defense.  This  Washington  promised  to  do  all  in  his 
power  to  preserve,  and,  at  the  same  time,  expressed  the  earnest  hope  that 
his  quondam  minister  might  be  able  to  satisfactorily  clear  himself  from  the 
suspicion  raised  by  the  letter. 

In  the  meantime,    the    calumny   and    abuse    directed    at  Washington 


THE    SECOND    PRESIDENTIAL    TERM.  255 

increased;  the  ratification  of  the  British  commercial  treaty  could  not  be 
condoned.  All  memory  of  years  of  gratuitous  and  arduous  service  in  the 
cause  of  America,  seemed  to  be  departed  from  the  people,  and  they  were 
no  longer  content  with  assailing  his  public  acts,  but  impugned  his  private 
motives  and  character,  as  well.  "  It  was  averred  that  he  was  totally  desti 
tute  of  merit,  either  as  a  soldier  or  a  statesman.  He  was  charged  with 
violating  the  Constitution,  in  having  negotiated  a  treaty  without  the  pre 
vious  advice  of  the  Senate,  and  that  he  had  embraced  within  that  treaty  sub 
jects  belonging  exclusively  to  the  Legislature,  for  which  an  impeachment 
was  publicly  suggested.  Nay,  more,  it  was  asserted  that  he  had  drawn  from 
the  treasury  for  his  private  use  more  than  the  salary  annexed  to  his  office." 
Marshall's  statement,  of  which  the  above  is  a  portion,  conveys  but  a  very 
faint  idea  of  the  many  and  various  troubles,  which  combined  to  gall  the 
proud  and  high  spirited  Washington.  The  last  named  charge  was  of  course 
false,  as  it  was  then  proved  to  be.  He  never  drew  a  cent  of  his  salary  in 
person.  It  was  invariably  paid  to  his  steward,  and  by  him  applied,  to  the 
last  dollar,  to  the  expenses  of  the  executive  household.  In  no  single  year 
did  the  amount  thus  drawn  equal,  much  less  exceed,  the  amount  of  the  salary. 

In  the  midst  of  all  his  trouble  and  mortification,  there  came  to  Wash 
ington  a  ray  of  brightness,  in  the  form  of  a  resolution  of  confidence,  passed 
by  the  legislature  of  Maryland,  all  the  more  valuable,  by  reason  of  its 
entire  spontaneity.  In  acknowledgment  of  this  kindness,  he  wrote  :  "  At 
an}'  time  the  expression  of  such  a  sentiment  would  have  been  considered  as 
highly  honorable  and  flattering.  At  the  present,  when  the  voice  of  malig 
nancy  is  so  high-toned,  and  no  attempts  are  left  unessayed,  to  destroy  all 
confidence  in  the  constituted  authorities  of  this  country,  it  is  peculiarly  grate 
ful  to  my  sensibility.  I  have  long  since  resolved,  for  the  present  time  at 
least,  to  let  my  calumniators  proceed  without  any  notice  being  taken  of 
their  invectives,  by  myself,  or  by  any  others  with  my  participation  and 
knowledge.  Their  views,  I  dare  say,  are  readily  perceived  by  all  the 
enlightened  and  well  disposed  part  of  the  community  ;  and  by  the  records 
of  my  administration,  and  not  by  the  voice  of  faction,  I  expect  to  be 
acquitted  or  condemned  hereafter." 

Mr.  Randolph,  during  the  month  of  December,  1/95,  made  his  defense 
or  explanation,  regarding  the  intercepted  letter.  It  was  strong  in  being 
corroborated  by  a  denial  of  M.  Fauchet,  that  he  had  intended  to  charge  the 
secretary  with  attempting  to  collect  funds  for  his  own  benefit ;  weak  in  its 
attempt  to  establish  a  negative,  and  in  its  intemperate  references  to  Wash 
ington.  Colonel  Pickering  was  transferred  to  the  Department  of  State, 
James  McHenry  was  made  Secretary  of  War,  and  the  Attorney-generalship, 
vacated  by  the  death  of  Mr.  Bradford,  was  filled  by  Charles  Lee,  of  Virginia. 
During  the  autumn  and  early  winter,  a  treaty  had  been  closed  with  Algiers, 
which  promised  protection  for  American  vessels  from  the  desperate  piracy 


256  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

of  those  seas,  and  the  difficulties  with  Spain,  regarding  southern  boundaries 
and  the  navigation  of  the  Mississippi,  were  settled  satisfactorily  to  the 
United  States  It  was  also  during  the  latter  part  of  this  year,  that  Washing 
ton  Lafayette,  son  of  the  marquis,  arrived  in  America  incognito,  and  was 
placed,  first  at  Harvard  college,  later  with  his  tutor  in  safe  retirement,  at 
the  cost  of  Washington. 

Congress  opened  in  December,  1795.  Washington  made  an  address, 
rehearsing  the  principal  occurrences  of  the  past  year,  and  congratulating 
that  body  upon  the  prosperity  of  the  country.  The  Senate  voted  a  cordial 
answer,  but  the  House,  controlled  by  the  opposition,  was  evasive.  On  the 
first  day  of  January,  Washington  formally  received  the  colors  of  France, 
sent  as  a  gift  to  the  nation,  and  responded  to  the  speech  of  M.  Adet,  with 
great  feeling. 

In  February,  Great  Britain  returned,  approved,  the  treaty  of  commerce, 
as  amended  by  the  Senate.  The  contract  was  now  irrevocably  completed, 
and  the  President  formally  proclaimed  the  treaty  the  law  of  the  land.  The 
House  of  Representatives,  piqued  at  the  making  of  this  proclamation  before 
the  matter  had  been  submitted  to  them,  refused,  for  the  time,  to  make  pro 
vision  for  carrying  it  into  effect,  and  demanded  that  the  President  lay  before 
them  the  documents  and  correspondence  relating  to  its  negotiation.  Washing 
ton  recognized  that  this  demand  was  not  warranted  by  the  constitution,  and 
was  ultra  vires.  Hence  he  determined  to  establish  the  principle  for  all  time, 
and  refused  to  comply  with  the  request,  placing  himself  fairly  on  constitu 
tional  grounds.  In  the  meantime  public  opinion  had  changed,  meetings 
were  held  in  various  cities  and  made  declarations  favorable  to  the  treaty, 
and,  in  March,  1796,  the  House  made  the  appropriation  necessary  for  its 
effect.  During  the  winter  Thomas  Pinckney,  the  excellent  minister  to 
England,  was  recalled  at  his  own  request,  and  Rufus  King  was  named  in  his 
stead.  Congress  adjourned  in  June,  and  the  official  year  was  over.  Soon 
after  the  adjournment  arose  dissatisfaction  with  the  course  of  Mr.  James 
Monroe,  minister  to  France.  France  had  been  offended  at  the  Jay  treaty, 
and  demanded  an  explanation ;  Monroe  had  been  furnished  with  ample  doc 
umentary  evidence,  and  directed  to  make  such  explanation,  but  for  some 
reason  he  had  neglected  to  use  his  papers,  and  America  still  stood  in  a  false 
light,  and  was  even  menaced  with  war.  Hence,  Monroe  was  recalled,  and 
Charles  C.  Pinckney,  brother  of  the  late  minister  to  St.  James,  was  named 
in  his  stead.  Later,  M.  Adet  made  a  formal  protest  against  the  attitude  of 
the  United  States  in  relation  to  the  struggle  of  France  with  England,  and  it 
became  necessary  to  the  preservation  of  the  good  understanding  of  the 
nations,  that  the  Secretary  of  State  of  the  United  States  should  make  a  full 
and  elaborate  answer  on  the  part  of  his  government. 

No  sooner  had  Congress  adjourned,  than  the  third  Presidental  election 
became  the  subject  of  discussion.  Washington  was  solicited  to  again  accept 


THE    SECOND    PRESIDENTIAL    TERM.  357 

the  office,  but  both  inclination  and  a  sense  of  duty  to  his  country  urged 
him  to  a  contrary  conclusion.  In  fact,  so  early  as  May,  he  had  been  in 
consultation  with  Hamilton  as  to  the  preparation  of  a  farewell  address, 
announcing  his  retirement.  This  famous  paper  was  published  in  Septem 
ber,  1796,  and  created  a  profound  sensation.  Its  authorship  is  a  vexed 
question,  but  it  was  probably  founded  upon  the  former  address,  prepared  by 
Madison,  and  was  elaborated  and  recast  by  Hamilton,  in  accordance  with 
suggestions  of  Washington.  Whatever  hand  guided  the  pen,  it  was  the 
President  who  inspired  the  wonderful  paper  which,  once  and  for  all,  put  an 
end  to  the  clamor  of  those  who  made  the  possibility  of  a  monarchy  their 
pet  theme.  There  is  no  grander  document  in  history  than  this  simple  reim- 
pressment  of  political  lessons,  which  he  had  so  often  taught,  followed  by 
the  voluntary  relinquishment  of  an  office  which,  in  spite  of  the  noisy  out 
cry  of  a  minority,  he  might,  for  the  asking,  have  again  held  by  a  unanimous 
electoral  vote.  The  address  was  received  throughout  the  country  with  the 
greatest  veneration.  It  was  spread  upon  the  minutes  of  many  state  legis 
latures,  and  forever  checked  the  howling  of  the  opposition  beagles. 

On  the  5th  day  of  December,  Congress  convened,  and  Washington 
made  his  farewell  address.  In  concluding,  he  said:  "The  situation  in 
which  I  now  stand  for  the  last  time,  in  the  midst  of  the  representatives  of 
the  people  of  the  United  States,  naturally  recalls  the  period  when  the 
administration  of  the  present  form  of  government  commenced.  I  cannot 
omit  the  occasion  to  congratulate  you  and  my  country  on  the  success  of  the 
experiment,  nor  to  repeat  my  fervent  supplications  to  the  Supreme  Ruler 
of  the  universe,  and  Sovereign  Arbiter  of  nations,  that  his  Providential 
care  may  be  still  extended  to  the  United  States;  that  the  virtue  and  happi 
ness  of  the  people  may  be  preserved,  and  that  the  government  which  they 
have  instituted  for  the  protection  of  their  liberties  ma}'  be  perpetual." 

The  Senate  and  House  responded  to  this  speech  with  expressions  of 
the  warmest  good  will  and  respect.  In  the  former,  there  was  not  a  dissent 
ing  vote;  in  the  latter  Mr.  Giles,  of  Virginia,  opposed  the  resolutions  of 
regret  at  the  retirement  of  the  President,  by  reason  of  his  disapproval  of 
the  foreign  policy  of  the  administration;  he  said  he  hoped  the  President 
would  be  happy  in  retirement,  but  he  hoped  he  would  retire.  Twelve  mem 
bers  agreed  with  Mr.  Giles. 

In  February,  the  votes  of  the  Presidential  electors  were  opened,  and 
John  Adams,  receiving  the  highest  number,  was  elected  President,  while 
Thomas  Jefferson,  next  in  order,  became  Vice  President.  Truly  an  unequal 
yoking  together  of  Federal  and  Democratic  sentiment!  On  the  30!  of  March, 
Washington  addressed  a  letter  to  the  Secretary  of  State,  making  his  first 
denial  of  the  authenticity  of  the  letters  published  in  England  and  New  York 
in  17/7,  and  attributed  to  him.  These  he  denounced  as  forgeries,  and 
requested  that  his  statement  be  placed  and  preserved  in  the  archives  of  the 


258  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

department.  On  the  same  day  he  gave  a  dinner  to  members  of  his  cab 
inet,  the  President  and  Vice  President  elect,  and  their  wives,  foreign  minis 
ters,  etc.,  and  on  the  following  day  gladly  turned  his  face  from  the  capital 
as  a  private  citizen. 

So  ended  the  second  term  of  the  first  President.  He  found  the  country 
a  chaos ;  he  left  it  a  cosmos.  He  found  it  bankrupt  and  financially  dis 
honored  ;  he  left  it  solvent,  owing  no  man  an  unliquidated  debt,  and  recog 
nized  in  the  money  markets  of  the  world.  He  found  it  in  weakness,  with  a 
system  having  no  coherency,  and  hence  no  power;  he  left  it  united,  power 
ful,  respected.  He  was,  indeed,  the  creator  of  America.  A  man  more 
entirely  great  never  wore  the  robes  of  office ;  a  man  more  entirely  contented 
never  gave  up  these  robes  for  the  plain  vestments  of  private  life. 


-7  <- 

XO-/2 


APPOINTED    COMMANDER    IN    CHIEF DEATH    AND    BURIAL.  •  259 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

WASHINGTON  APPOINTED  COMMANDER  IN  CHIEF-HIS  DEATH  AND  BURIAL. 

IMMEDIATELY  after  the  inauguration  of  John  Adams,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Washington  set  out  for  Mount  Vcrnon,  accompanied  by  Miss  Nellie 
Custis,  and  George  W.  Lafayette,  with  his  tutor.  Upon  the  way  they  were 
everywhere  received  with  the  greatest  enthusiasm,  though  every  effort  was 
made  to  avoid  the  infliction  of  formal  receptions,  escorts,  etc.  Twenty-two 
years  of  public  life,  during  which  he  had  never  made  a  journey  without 
meeting  with  the  acclaims  of  the  people,  had  made  such  ovations  familiar 
to  Washington,  and,  while  they  had  not  ceased  to  be  gratifying  to  him  for 
the  good  will  indicated,  they  had  become  somewhat  burdensome.  Finally 
arriving  at  Mount  Vernon,  he  found  his  buildings  sadly  out  of  repair,  and 
was  met  by  the  necessity  of  erecting  a  structure  for  the  safe-keeping  of  his 
private  and  public  papers.  His  house  was  at  once  given  into  the  posses 
sion  of  a  small  army  of  painters  and  carpenters,  and,  so  impatient  was  he 
for  the  completion  of  the  work,  that  he  scarcely  retained  a  habitable  room 
for  himself.  The  life  at  Mount  Vernon  has  been  before  described  ;  little 
need  here  be  added.  A  letter,  written  with  the  playful  exuberance  of  a 
school-boy  upon  a  vacation,  tells  how  happy  he  is  in  his  freedom.  It  is 
addressed  to  James  McIIenry,  Secretary  of  War,  and  is  as  follows :  "I 
am  indebted  to  you  for  several  unacknowledged  letters;  but  never  mind 
that;  go  on  as  if  you  had  answers.  You  are  at  the  source  of  information, 
and  can  find  many  things  to  relate,  while  I  have  nothing  to  say  that  could 
either  instruct  or  amuse  a  Secretary  of  War,  in  Philadelphia.  I  might  tell 
him  that  I  begin  my  diurnal  course  with  the  sun ;  that,  if  my  hirelings  are 
not  in  their  places  at  that  time,  I  send  them  messages  of  sorrow,  for  their 
indisposition;  that,  having  put  these  wheels  in  motion,  I  examine  the  state 
of  things  further;  that,  the  more  they  are  probed,  the  deeper  I  find  the 
wounds  which  my  buildings  have  sustained  by  an  absence  and  neglect  of 
eight  years ;  that,  by  the  time  I  have  accomplished  these  matters,  break- 


26O  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

fast  (a  little  after  seven  o'clock,  about  the  time,  I  presume,  you  are  taking 
leave  of  Mrs.  McHenry)  is  ready ;  that,  this  being  over,  I  mount  my  horse 
and  ride  'round  my  farms,  which  employs  me  until  it  is  time  to  dress  for 
dinner,  at  which  I  rarely  miss  seeing  strange  faces,  come,  as  they  say,  out 
of  respect  for  me.  Pray,  would  not  the  word  curiosity  answer  as  well? 
And  how  different  this  from  having  a  few  social  friends  at  a  cheerful  board ! 
The  usual  time  of  sitting  at  the  table,  a  walk  and  tea,  brings  me  within  the 
dawn  of  candle-light ;  previous  to  which,  if  not  prevented  by  company,  I 
resolve  that,  as  soon  as  the  glimmering  taper  supplies  the  place  of  the  great 
luminary,  I  will  retire  to  my  writing  table,  and  acknowledge  the  letters  I 
have  received,  but,  when  the  lights  are  brought,  I  feel  tired  and  disinclined 
to  engage  in  this  work,  conceiving  that  the  next  night  will  do  as  well.  The 
next  night  comes,  and  with  it  the  same  causes  for  postponement,  and  so  on. 
Having  given  you  the  history  of  a  day,  it  will  serve  for  a  year,  and  I  am 
persuaded  you  will  not  require  a  second  edition  of  it,  But  it  may  strike 
you  in  this  detail  no  mention  is  made  of  any  portion  of  time  allotted  to 
reading.  The  remark  would  be  just,  for  I  have  not  looked  into  a  book 
since  I  came  home ;  nor  shall  I  be  able  to  do  it  until  I  have  discharged  my 
workmen;  probably  not  before  the  nights  grow  longer,  when  possibly,  I 
may  be  looking  in  the  Doomsday  Book. " 

The  corning  of  so  many  guests  to  Mount  Vernon  compelled  Washing 
ton  to  request  his  nephew,  Lawrence  Lewis,  to  take  up  his  residence  there, 
and  assume  some  of  the  arduous  duties  of  hospitality.  Lewis  was  young, 
well-bred,  highly  educated  and  attractive.  A  member  of  the  household,  he 
was,  of  course,  ever  in  the  field,  and  he  discovered  better  occupation  than 
entertaining  curious  visitors.  Pretty  Nelly  Custis  was  budding  into  beautiful 
womanhood,  and  Le\vis  soon  found  a  divided  service,  laying  warm  siege 
to  her  heart.  His  suit  seemed  promising,  yet  there  came  a  rival  in  the 
person  of  the  aristocratic  young  Carroll,  of  Carrollton.  This  young  scion  of 
the  Virginia  noblesse,  was  fresh  from  the  grand  tour,  polished,  accomplished, 
confident, — yet  the  fair  Nelly  was  not  for  him,  and  Lewis  became  her  hus 
band,  the  marriage  occurring  at  Mount  Vernon  in  1798.  But  one  break 
occurred  in  the  monotony  of  this  happy  life,  before  the  last  dread  interrup 
tion.  In  1797  the  French  administration  assumed  a  very  hostile  tone  toward 
America.  Pinckney,  the  American  minister,  was  ordered  to  leave  France, 
and  notice  was  given  that  no  one  accredited  by  the  United  States  would  be 
recognized,  until  the  wrongs  which  France  had  suffered  should  be  com 
pensated.  Pinckney  took  refuge  at  The  Hague,  and  gave  notice  of  the 
indignity.  The  action  of  France  seems  to  have  been  merely  a  scheme  on 
the  part  of  Talleyrand  to  extort  money  from  the  United  States.  Adams 
named  three  envoys  to  proceed  to  France,  and  consider  the  grievance  upon 
which  the  Directory  laid  so  much  stress.  These  gentlemen  found  that  they 
were  regarded  by  Talleyrand  merely  as  sheep  to  be  shorn ;  that  no  questiop 


APPOINTED    COMMANDER    IN    CHIEF DEATH    AND    BURIAL.  26l 

of  national  right  or  dignity  entered  into  the  matter ;  it  was  a  purely  mer 
cenary  expedient,  and,  having  received  the  insult  of  a  proposal  that  they 
should  bribe  the  Directory,  returned  to  America,  having  accomplished 
nothing.  War  now  seemed  inevitable,  and  Adams  was  extremely  anxious 
upon  the  subject.  He  at  once  consulted  Washington,  and,  no  sooner, 
had  the  discussion  of  the  prospect  of  war  begun,  than  the  latter  began  to 
receive  letters  from  many  sources,  to  the  effect  that,  in  the  event  of  hostili 
ties,  America  would  look  to  him,  not  only  for  advice,  but  for  leadership.  So 
imminent  seemed  the  prospect  of  war,  that  Congress  provided  for  the  raising 
of  a  provisional  army  of  ten  thousand  men,  and  Washington  was  made  its 
commander  in  chief.  He  had  before  avowed  that  he  would  accept  the 
duty  of  leading  the  army,  should  there  actually  be  a  foreign  invasion,  and 
that  he  would  give  his  counsel  and  accept  rank  during  the  organization  of 
an  army,  but  would  not  take  command,  save  in  the  event  of  actual  hostili 
ties.  When  it  was  arranged  to  raise  the  army,  he  went  to  Philadelphia,  and 
spent  five  laborious  weeks  in  consulting  and  arranging  as  to  its  organization, 
equipment  and  disposition.  The  most  important  step  taken  was  the 
appointment  of  three  major-generals,  Hamilton,  Knox,  and  the  late  minister 
to  France,  Pinckney,  to  command  the  various  divisions  of  the  army.  This 
provided  for,  Washington  returned  to  Mount  Vcrnon. 

The  effect  of  the  active  war  preparations  in  America  was  to  convince 
the  French  Directory  that  it  had  made  a  wrong  estimate  of  the  people  with 
whom  it  had  to  deal,  and  to  decidedly  vary  its  tone  in  relation  to  America. 
Eventually,  Talleyrand  wrote  the  French  secretary  of  legation  at  the  Hague, 
that  France  would  doubtless  receive  any  person  accredited  by  the  United 
States,  with  the  respect  due  the  representative  of  a  formidable  power.  This 
letter  was  of  course  shown  the  American  minister  at  that  point,  and  was 
communicated  by  him  to  the  department  of  state.  Mr.  Adams  was  weak- 
enough  to  act  upon  this  intimation,  coining  in  such  indirect  fashion,  and 
appointed  a  minister  to  France,  who  was  duly  confirmed.  So  was  the  war 
cloud  broken,  at  the  expense  of  the  dignity  of  the  United  States.* 

The  month  of  December,  1/99,  found  Washington  in  good  health,  and 
systematically  occupied  with  the  care  of  his  estate.  He  was  particularly 
engaged  in  preparing  a  written  plan  for  the  conduct  of  his  farms,  including  a 
tabular  statement  of  the  crops  to  be  raised  in  various  fields,  for  several  years 
in  advance.  This  he  finished  on  the  loth,  and  noting  the  fact  in  his  diary, 
adds  that  the  weather  was  clear  and  pleasant  in  the  morning,  but  lowering 
in  the  afternoon.  It  rained  on  the  nth,  and  "there  was  a  large  circle 
abound  the  moon."  The  I2th  was  snowy,  the  weather,  however,  being  so 
w<rm  that  the  snow  was  very  wet.  Washington  wrapped  himself  in  a  cloak 
ai  :1  went  out  in  the  saddle,  as  was  his  custom.  Before  setting  out,  he  wrote 

*  For  a  fuller  account  of  this  transaction-  see  the  life  of  John  Adams. 


262  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

Hamilton,  heartily  endorsing  the  plan  of  the  latter  for  the  establishment  of 
a  military  academy.  During  the  morning  his  secretary  sought  him  in  the 
field,  and  obtained  his  frank  upon  a  number  of  letters.  Noticing  snow 
clinging  to  the  general's  hair,  he  expressed  fear  lest  he  might  take  cold ; 
Washington  added  that  his  cloak  amply  protected  him,  but,  with  character 
istic  thoughtfulness,  added  that  the  weather  was  too  bad  to  send  a  servant 
out  with  the  letters.  On  the  morning  of  the  I3th,  there  was  too  much  snow 
upon  the  ground  to  permit  of  his  going  out,  and  he  complained  of  a  sore 
throat.  In  the  evening  he  was  very  cheerful,  attempting  to  read  aloud  from 
newspapers  received  that  day,  but  this  his  hoarseness  rendered  very  difficult. 
Upon  retiring,  Mr.  Lear,  his  secretary,  advised  his  taking  medicine,  but  he 
said,  "No,  I  never  take  anything  for  a  cold;  let  it  go  as  it  came." 

During  the  night  he  suffered  severely,  yet  would  not  consent  to  Mrs. 
Washington's  arising  to  call  a  servant.  In  the  morning,  Mr.  Lear  came  to 
the  bed  side  and  found  the  General  almost  unable  to  speak,  and  nearly  suf 
focated  by  the  swelling  of  his  throat.  Dr.  Craik,  his  old  friend,  was  at  once 
sent  for,  and  one  of  the  farm  overseers  was  called  in  and  bled  him. 
Between  8  and  9  in  the  morning,  Dr.  Craik  arrived,  and  soon  after,  two 
other  physicians,  but  none  of  their  remedies  gave  relief.  Washington  was 
perfectly  conscious  and  aware  of  the  hopelessness  of  his  case.  About  4  in 
the  afternoon,  he  called  his  secretary  and  gave  directions  about  arranging 
his  papers,  and  various  other  matters  of  importance.  During  the  evening 
he  seemed  a  little  easier,  and  spoke  a  few  times.  At  10  o'clock  he  said  to 
Mr.  Lear,  with  much  difficulty :  "  I  am  just  going ;  have  me  decently 
buried,  and  do  not  let  my  body  be  put  into  the  vault  in  less  than  three  days 
after  I  am  dead."  Lear  bowed,  in  answer,  for  emotion  prevented  his 
speaking.  The  general  looked  up  and  asked  : 

"  Do  you  understand  me  ?" 

"Yes,"  was  the  reply. 

"Tis  well,"  said  he. 

These  were  his  last  words,  for,  between  10  and  1 1  o'clock,  he  passed 
peacefully  away. 

The  funeral  occurred  on  the  iSth.  The  remains  of  the  beloved  friend; 
the  brave  soldier;  the  wise  counselor;  the  great  and  good  man,  were  placed 
in  the  family  vault,  in  the  presence  of  a  great  concourse  of  neighbors  and 
friends  ;  the  honors  of  war  were  paid  by  the  militia  of  Alexandria,  while  a 
schooner  in  the  river  fired  minute  gruns. 

So  ended  this  wonderful  life,  as  he  would  have  had  it  close,  with  his 
friends  about  him,  and  for  all  time  his  tired  body  finds  rest  in  the  midst  of 
the  scenes  which  he  so  loved  in  life,  and  from  which  he  was  so  constantly 
and  so  reluctantly  divided. 

Leave  can  hardly  be  taken  of  the  memory  of  this  great  and  good  man 
without  reference  to  one  act  that  found  its  fulfillment  only  after  his  death. 


THE  WILL — PROVISION   FOR    SLAVES.  263 

"On  opening  the  will  which  he  had  handed  to  Mrs.  Washington  shortly 
before  death, "  writes  Irving,  "it  was  found  to  have  been  carefully  drawn 
up  by  himself  in  the  preceding  July;  and  by  an  act  in  conformity  with  his 
whole  career,  one  of  its  first  provisions  directed  the  emancipation  of  his 
slaves  on  the  decease  of  his  wife.  It  had  long  been  his  earnest  wish  that 
the  slaves  held  by  him  in  his  own  right  should  receive  their  freedom  during 
his  life,  but  he  had  found  that  it  would  be  attended  with  insuperable  diffi 
culties  on  account  of  their  intermixture  by  marriage  with  the  'dower 
negroes,'  whom  it  was  not  in  his  power  to  manumit  under  the  tenure  by 
which  they  were  held.  With  provident  benignity  he  also  made  provision 
in  his  will  for  such  as  were  to  receive  their  freedom  under  this  device,  but 
who,  from  age,  bodily  infirmities,  or  infancy,  might  be  unable  to  support 
themselves,  and  he  expressly  forbade,  under  any  pretense  whatsoever,  the 
sale  or  transportation  out  of  Virginia  of  any  slave  of  whom  he  might  die 
possessed.  Though  born  and  educated  a  slaveholder,  this  was  in  con 
sonance  with  feelings,  sentiments  and  principles  which  he  had  long  enter 
tained.  In  a  letter  ...  in  September,  1/86,  he  writes:  'I  never 
mean,  unless  some  particular  circumstances  should  compel  me  to  it,  to 
possess  another  slave  by  purchase,  it  being  among  my  first  wishes  to  see 
some  plan  adopted  by  which  slavery  in  this  country  may  be  abolished  by 
law.'  And  eleven  years  afterward  he  writes:  ...  'I  wish  from  my 
soul  that  the  legislature  of  this  state  could  see  the  policy  of  a  gradual 
abolition  of  slavery.  It  might  prevent  much  future  mischief.'  ' 

"The  character  of  Washington,"  writes  Irving  further,  in  summing  up 
the  life-work  of  the  great  leader,  "may  want  some  of  those  poetical  ele 
ments  which  dazzle  and  delight  the  multitude,  but  it  possessed  fewer  inequal 
ities  and  a  rarer  union  of  virtues  than  perhaps  ever  fell  to  the  lot  of  one 
man — prudence,  firmness,  sagacity,  moderation,  an  overruling  judgment, 
an  immovable  justice,  courage  that  never  faltered,  patience  that  never 
wearied,  truth  that  disdained  all  artifice,  magnanimity  without  alloy.  It 
seems  as  if  Providence  had  endowed  him  in  a  preeminent  degree  with  all 
the  qualities  requisite  to  fit  him  for  the  high  destiny  he  was  called  upon  to 
fulfill — to  conduct  a  momentous  revolution  which  was  to  form  an  era  in 
the  history  of  the  world,  and  to  inaugurate  a  new  and  untried  government, 
which,  to  use  his  own  words,  was  to  lay  the  foundation  '  for  the  enjoyment 
of  much  purer  civil  liberty  and  greater  public  happiness  than  have  hitherto 
been  the  portion  of  mankind.'  The  fame  of  Washington  stands  apart 
from  every  other  in  history,  shining  with  a  truer  lustre  and  a  more  benig 
nant  glory.  With  us  his  memory  remains  a  National  property,  where  all 
sympathies  throughout  our  widely-extended  and  diversified  empire  meet 
in  unison.  Under  all  dissensions  and  amid  all  the  storms  of  party,  his 
precepts  and  example  speak  to  us  from  the  grave  with  a  paternal  appeal ; 
and  his  name — by  all  revered — forms  a  universal  tie  of  brotherhood — a 


264  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

watchword  of  our  union.  'It  will  be  the  duty  of  the  historian  and  the 
sage  of  all  nations,'  writes  an  eminent  British  statesman  (Lord  Brougham), 
'to  let  no  occasion  pass  of  commemorating  this  illustrious  man,  and  untii' 
time  shall  be  no  more  will  a  test  of  the  progress  which  our  race  hr-s 
made  in  wisdom  and  virtue  be  derived  from  the  veneration  paid  to  the 
immortal  name  of  Washington.'  " 


v.         / 


JOHN    ADAMS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

ACADEMIC,  COLLEGIATE,  AND   PROFESSIONAL  EDUCATION, 

THE  devotion  of  New  England  to  liberal  education;  the  universal  per 
suasion  of  rich  and  poor,  that  its  bestowal  upon  the  youth  of  the  col 
onies  was  a  duty  only  to  be  omitted  under  the  pressure  of  the  sternest  pov 
erty  or  other  unavoidable  obstacle,  served  well  the  interest  of  America  in 
raising  up,  for  the  great  emergency  of  the  Revolution,  a  class  of  men  whose 
zeal  was  tempered  by  liberal  knowledge  and  culture;  whose  practical  weight 
was  increased  by  the  breadth  of  view  which  arises  from  the  comparison  of 
existing  political  conditions,  with  those  of  preceding  centuries.  John 
Adams  was  one,  and  the  greatest  of  these  men.  His  grandfather  had  given 
the  eldest  of  his  twelve  children  the  best  obtainable  education  at  Harvard, 
that  grand  old  college,  which  dated  from  the  time  of  Governor  Wentworth. 
Desiring  to  confer  as  great  a  blessing  upon  one  of  his  own  sons,  the  second 
Adams,  with  some  difficulty  persuaded  John,  his  oldest  son,  born  October 
19  (old  style),  1735,  to  matriculate  at  Harvard,  which  he  did  in  1752.  Har- 
*  vard  at  that  time  made  no  affectation  of  recognizing  a  dead  level  of  social 
equality.  Students,  upon  entering,  were  placed  upon  the  lists,  not  in  alpha 
betical  order,  nor  according  to  the  succession  in  which  they  came,  but  with 
strict  regard  to  the  rank  and  position  of  the  families  to  which  they  belonged. 
This  fact  gives  us  a  definite  means  of  placing  the  Adamses  in  the  social  scale, 
for  John  Adams  stood  fourteenth  in  a  class  of  twenty-four.  John  Ouincy 
Adams  says,  however,  in  the  unfinished  biography  of  his  father,  completed 
by  Mr.  Charles  Frances  Adams,  that  the  fact  of  his  father's  securing  even 
this  rank,  was  clue  rather  to  the  position  of  the  maternal  branch  of  the  fam 
ily,  than  to  that  of  the  Adamses.  In  ironical  reflection  upon  this  artificial 


266  JOHN    ADAMS. 

distinction,  was  the  fact  that  John  Adams,  from  the  beginning  to  the  close  of 
his  course  at  Harvard,  found  but  two  competitors  for  intellectual  leadership, 
in  a  class  exceptional  for  the  ability  and  high  scholarship  of  its  members, 
among  whom  were  numbered  William  Browne,  subsequently  governor  of 
the  island  of  Bermuda;  John  Wentworth,  who  became  governor  of  New 
Hampshire ;  David  Sewall,  long  judge  of  the  United  States  district  court  in 
Maine;  Tristram  Dalton,  an  early  United  States  Senator  for  Massachusetts; 
Samuel  Locke,  afterwards  president  of  Harvard  college,  and  Moses  Heirh 
menway,  who  became  a  distinguished  divine.  Only  the  two  last  named 
approached  the  scholarship  of  Adams,  who  was  but  seventeen  years  of  age 
at  the  time  of  his  admission.  Remaining  in  college  three  years,  Adams  was 
granted  his  bachelor's  degree  in  1755,  and  stood  face  to  face  with  the  prob 
lem  of  making  a  living.  His  father  had  already  done  for  him  quite  as  much 
as  his  means  would  permit,  in  supporting  him  during  his  preparatory  and 
collegiate  studies.  He  had  gained  a  liberal  education,  the  friendship  of  men 
greatly  his  social  superiors,  and  the  intellectual  equipment  necessary  to  any 
professional  undertaking.  It  is  not  easy,  at  this  day,  to  realize  how  narrow 
a  field  was  open  to  him.  Public  sentiment,  and  the  usage  of  the  day, 
practically  restricted  the  choice  to  the  three  professions  of  law,  medicine, 
and  divinity.  Mercantile  pursuits  did  not  invite  a  man  of  liberal  education ; 
commerce  was  small,  and  called  for  little  more  knowledge  than  did  shop- 
keeping;  engineering  had  not  become  a  profession  in  America,  and  manual 
labor  of  any  kind  could  be  as  well  done  by  any  one  who  could  not  write  his 
name. 

The  life  of  New  England  had  been,  from  the  outset,  such  as  to  give 
to  divinity  a  prestige  accorded  to  no  other  profession.  The  Puritans  had 
left  the  mother  country  in  search  of  freedom  of  thought  and  speech  upon 
religious  subjects.  Settled  in  their  new  home,  religious  discussion  had  con 
stituted  the  predominating  intellectual  exercise  of  all  the  early  years  of  the 
colony,  and,  even  so  late  as  the  time  of  Adams,  the  clergyman  was  a  per 
son  uniting  the  personal  and  social  prestige,  which  had  survived  the  old 
establishments,  with  the  respectability  belonging  to  presumed  learning,  and 
the  influence  of  the  spiritual  mentor.  Law  was  held  in  small  esteem.  The 
system  of  courts  and  practice  was  simple  ;  litigations  wrere  small  and  unre- 
munerative,  and,  as  small  business  always  breeds  pettifoggers,  the  bar  was 
none  too  well  represented.  To  these  the  Puritans,  with  the  sturdy  literal 
ness  which  was  so  characteristic,  applied  strictly  the  condemnation:  "Woe 
unto  you,  also,  lawyers,  for  ye  lade  men  with  burdens  grievous  to  be 
borne,"  and  the  profession  was,  if  not  actually  in  disrepute,  far  from 
holding  its  proper  place,  in  relation  to  others.  Medicine  was  better 
regarded,  but,  as  the  fathers  of  New  England  had  proved,  upon  the  rack 
and  at  the  stake,  their  greater  esteem  of  the  soul  than  of  the  body,  it 
could  not  but  be  that  he  who  administered  to  the  carnal  man,  should  give 


ACADEMIC,   COLLEGIATE,    AND    PROFESSIONAL    EDUCATION.  26/ 

way  to  the  doctor  of  souls.  Thus  Adams  was  led  almost  irresistibly  to  the 
study  of  theology.  This  influence  did  not,  as  might  have  been  expected, 
come  most  strongly  from  his  home.  His  father  and  mother  were  religious 
people,  but  were  freer  from  the  narrowness  of  the  time  than  were  the 
majority,  and  accompanied  their  recommendations  with  nothing  which 
savored  of  insistence.  It  was  his  friends  and  associates  of  the  college  who 
most  strongly  urged  the  young  man  to  the  profession  of  divinity.  For 
tunately  for  him  and  for  the  world,  he  was  poor,  and  the  necessity  of  earn 
ing  enough  for  his  own  support  pressed  him  immediately.  To  this  end  he 
sentenced  himself  for  a  time,  as  has  many  an  able  man,  to  the  purgatory  of 
the  country  school,  becoming  a  teacher  in  the  then  little  village  of  Worces- 
ter.  Even  at  the  age  of  twenty  he  was  a  man  of  such  breadth  of  idea  as 
to  make  the  dreary  monotony,  and  the  mechanical  methods,  of  a  country 
school,  almost  insupportable.  The  petty  absolutism  of  his  authority, 
which  makes  small  men  prigs  and  tyrants,  was  to  him  only  mortifying  and 
ridiculous.  A  letter,  written  from  Worcester,  soon  after  he  assumed 
charge  of  the  school,  gives,  at  once,  so  just  an  idea  of  the  writer,  and  so 
lively  a  description  of  his  position,  as  to  bear  extended  quotation.  It  is  as 
follows  : 

"WORCESTER,  2  September,   1/55. 

"  DEAR  SIR:  I  promised  to  write  you  an  account  of  the  situation  of  my 
mind.  The  natural  strength  of  my  faculties  is  quite  insufficient  for  the  task. 
Attend,  therefore,  to  the  invocation.  O  thou  goddess,  muse,  or  whatever 
is  thy  name,  who  inspired  immortal  Milton's  pen  with  a  confusion  ten  thou 
sand  times  confounded,  when  describing  Satan's  voyage  through  chaos, 
help  me,  in  the  same  cragged  strains,  to  sing  things  unattempted  yet  in  prose 
or  rhyme.  When  the  nimble  hours  have  tackled  Apollo's  coursers,  and 
the  gay  deity  mounts  the  eastern  sky,  the  gloomy  pedagogue  arises,  frown 
ing  and  lowering  like  a  black  cloud,  begrimed  with  uncommon  wrath,  to 
blast  a  devoted  land.  When  the  destined  time  arrives,  he  enters  upon  action, 
and,  as  a  haughty  monarch  ascends  his  throne,  the  pedagogue  mounts  his 
awful  great  chair,  and  dispenses  right  and  justice  throughout  his  whole 
empire.  His  obsequious  subjects  execute  the  imperial  mandates  with  cheer 
fulness,  and  think  it  their  high  happiness  to  be  employed  in  the  service  of 
the  emperor.  Sometimes  paper,  sometimes  his  pen-knife;  now  birch,  now 
arithmetic,  now  a  ferule,  then  A  B  C,  then  scolding,  then  flattering,  then 
thwacking,  calls  for  the  pedagogue's  attention.  At  length,  his  spirits  all 
exhausted,  down  comes  pedagogue  from  his  throne,  walks  out  in  awful 
solemnity  through  a  cringing  multitude.  In  the  afternoon  he  passes  through 
the  same  dreadful  scenes,  smokes  his  pipe,  and  goes  to  bed.  Exit  muse. 

"The  situation  of  the  town  is  quite  pleasant,  and  the  inhabitants,  so 
far  as  I  have  had  opportunity  to  know  their  character,  are  a  sociable,  gener 
ous  and  hospitable  people ;  but  the  school  is,  indeed,  a  school  of  affliction. 


268  JOHN  ADAMS. 

A  large  number  of  little  runtlings,  just  capable  of  lisping  A  B  C,  an 
troubling  the  master.  But  Dr.  Savil  tells  me  for  my  comfort,  '  By  cultiva 
ing  and  pruning  these  tender  plants  in  the  garden  of  Worcester,  I  sha 
make  some  of  them  plants  of  renown  and  cedars  of  Lebanon.'  Howevt 
this  be,  I  am  certain  that  keeping  this  school  any  length  of  time  would  mak 
a  base  weed  and  ignoble  shrub  of  me. 

"Pray  write  me  the  first  time  you  are  at  leisure.  A  letter  from  you,  si: 
would  balance  the  inquietude  of  school  keeping.  Dr.  Savil  will  packet 
with  his,  and  convey  it  to  me.  When  you  see  friend  Quincy,  conjure  hin 
by  all  the  muses,  to  write  me  a  letter.  Tell  him  that  all  the  conversation 
have  had  since  I  left  Braintree,  is  dry  disputes  upon  politics,  and  rur; 
obscene  wit.  That,  therefore,  a  letter  written  with  that  elegance  of  sty' 
and  delicacy  of  humor  which  characterize  all  his  performances,  would  coir 
recommended  with  the  additional  charm  of  rarity,  and  contribute  more  tha 
anything  (except  one  from  you)  towards  making  a  happy  man  of  me  one 
more.  To  tell  you  a  secret,  I  do  not  know  how  to  conclude  neatly  withoi 
asking  assistance ;  but,  as  truth  has  a  higher  place^  in  your  esteem  tha 
any  ingenious  conceit,  I  shall  please  you,  as  well  as  myself,  most,  by  sul 
scribing  myself  your  affectionate  friend, 

"JOHN  ADAMS." 

In  the  meantime,  while,  perforce,  submissive  to  the  necessity  of  endu 
ing  the  monotony  of  the  school-room,  Adams'  mind  was  actively  engage 
with  the  question  of  his  future.  At  one  time  he  was  very  near  overridin 
his  own  inclination,  and  embracing  the  clerical  profession.  During  tl: 
winter  of  1755-56  he  consulted  much  with  his  family  and  friends  upon  th 
subject.  Among  those  who  favored  his  entering  the  pulpit,  was  his  frien 
and  classmate,  Charles  Gushing,  who,  during  February,  1756,  wrote  him 
letter,  urging  his  decision  in  that  direction.  The  reply  of  Adams  di 
closes  the  course  of  reasoning  by  which  he  so  nearly  overruled  himself,  an 
is  so  much  clearer  statement  of  the  case  as  to  well  excuse  transferring 

o 

to  these  pages.  Adams  was,  in  fact,  his  own  best  biographer,  and  so  far  i 
space  will  permit,  his  own  words  will  be  quoted  in  this  work.  The  lettc 
referred  to  follows : 

•'  MY  FRIEND  : — I  had  the  pleasure,  a  few  days  since,  of  receiving  you 
letter  of  February  4th.  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  your  advice,  and  for  tli 
manly  and  rational  reflections  with  which  you  enforced  it.  I  think  I  hav 
deliberately  weighed  the  subject  and  have  almost  determined  as  you  advise 
Upon  the  stage  of  life  we  have  each  of  us  a  part,— a  laborious  and  difficii 
part — to  act ;  but  we  are  all  capable  of  acting  our  parts,  however  difficult,  t 
the  best  advantage.  Upon  a  common  theater,  indeed,  the  applause  of  th 
audience  is  of  more  importance  to  the  actors  than  their  own  approbatior 
But,  upon  the  stage  of  life,  while  conscience  claps,  let  the  world  hiss.  O 
the  contrary,  if  conscience  disapproves,  the  loudest  applauses  of  the  worl 


ACADEMIC,    COLLEGIATE,    AND    PROFESSIONAL    EDUCATION.  269 

arc  of  little  value.  While  our  own  minds  commend,  we  may  calmly  despise 
all  the  frowns,  all  censure,  all  malignity  of  man. 

"  '  Should  the  whole  frame  of  nature  round  us  break, 

In  ruin  and  confusion  hurled, 
We,  unconcerned,  might  hear  the  mighty  crack, 
We  stand,  unhurt,  amidst  a  falling  world.'  " 

"We  have,  indeed,  the  liberty  of  choosing  what  character  we  shall  sus- 
tain  in  the  great  and  important  drama.  But,  to  choose  rightly,  we  should 
consider  in  what  character  we  can  do  the  most  service  to  our  fellow  men,  as 
well  as  to  ourselves.  The  man  who  lives  only  to  himself  is  less  worth  than 

the    cattle  in   his    barn Upon   the    whole    I    think    the 

divine  (if  he  reveres  his  own  understanding  more  than  the  decrees  of  coun 
cils  or  the  sentiments  of  fathers;  if  he  resolutely  discharges  the  duties  of 
his  station  ;  if  he  spends  his  time  in  the  improvement  of  his  head  in  knowl 
edge  and  his  heart  in  virtue,  instead  of  sauntering  about  the  streets)  will  be 
able  to  do  more  good  to  his  fellow  men,  and  make  better  provision  for  his 
own  future  happiness,  in  this  profession  than  in  another.  However,  I  r.m, 
as  yet,  very  contented  in  the  place  of  a  schoolmaster.  I  shall  not,  there 
fore,  very  suddenly  become  a  preacher. " 

Had  Adams,  in  fact,  embraced  the  ministry,  holding  the  beliefs 
expressed  in  this  letter,  he  must  either  have  been  run  through  the  usual 
theological  mold,  coming  out  deprived  of  all  force,  independence,  and  origi 
nality  of  thought,  or  have  proved  hopelessly  unorthodox.  His  opinions 
are  very  boyish;  his  expression  crude;  the  whole  tone  of  his  letter  is  some 
what  sophomoric,  in  the  readiness  evinced  to  cut  loose  from  accepted  sys 
tems  and  authorities.  A  man  may  be  a  Plato,  or  a  Socrates,  or  an  Aris 
totle,  and  retain — yes,  profit  by — independence  of  thought,  which  rises  above 
systems  while  it  creates  them,  but  the  strict  Calvanism  of  New  England  had 
no  traffic  with  originality.  The  minister  was  an  officer  charged  with  giving 
spiritual  instruction  according  to  rules  which  he  could  no  more  vary  thau 
could  the  schoolmaster  attempt  to  revise  the  spelling  of  the  language.  Both 
theology  and  spelling  have  since  changed,  but  the  time  was  not  yet  ripe 
The  letter  quoted,  closes  with  the  following  significant  postscript:  "There- 
is  a  story  around  town  that  I  am  an  Arminian.": 

In  truth,  if  Adams  was  not  at  that  time  an  Arminian,  he  was  fast 
becoming  weakened  in  the  strict  Calvinistic  beliefs  in  which  he  had  been 
educated,  and  which  constituted  the  orthodoxy  of  the  day.  The  months  fol 
lowing  saw  a  continued  change  toward  liberality,  which,  while  it  never  led 

*  This  is  the  name  given  to  the  followers  of  Arminius,  who  was  a  pastor  at  Amsterdam,  and  after 
wards  professor  of  divinity  at  Leyden.  Arminius  had  1  een  educated  in  the  beliefs  cf  Calvin  ;  but,  think 
ing  the  doctrines  of  that  great  man,  with  regard  to  free  will,  predestination,  and  grace,  too  severe,  he  began 
to  express  his  doubts  concerning  them  in  the  year  1591  ,  Mid,  upon  further  inquiry,  adopted  the  ;.ent;- 
ments  of  those  whose  religious  system  extends  the  love  of  the  Supreme  Being,  and  the  merits  of  Jesus 
Christ,  to  all  mankind. 


27O  JOHN    ADAMS. 

him  away  from  the  Christian  religion,  precluded  him  from  its  ministry  in 
New  England.  In  August,  1/56,  this  relaxation  had  gone  so  far  that  he 
definitely  and  forever  gave  up  the  idea  of  becoming  a  clergyman,  and 
arranged  to  pursue  the  study  of  the  law  with  Mr.  Putnam,  a  leading  mem 
ber  of  the  bar  at  Worcester.  At  the  same  time  he  again  wrote  to  his  friend 
Gushing,  to  whom  he  deemed  an  explanation  due: 

"  WORCESTER,  19  October,  1756. 

"My  FRIEND: — I  look  upon  myself  obliged  to  give  you  the  reasons 
that  induced  me  to  resolve  upon  the  study  and  profession  of  the  law, 
because  you  were  so  kind  as  to  advise  me  to  a  different  profession.  When 
yours  came  to  hand  I  had  thought  of  preaching,  but,  the  longer  I  lived  and 
the  more  experience  I  had  with  that  order  of  men,  and  of  the  real  design 
of  that  institution,  the  more  objections  I  found,  in  my  own  mind,  to  that 
course  of  life.  I  have  the  pleasure  to  be  acquainted  with  a  young  man  of 
fine  genius,  cultivated  with  indefatigable  study ;  of  a  generous  and  noble 
disposition,  and  of  the  strictest  virtue ;  a  gentleman  who  deserves  the  coun 
tenance  of  the  greatest  men,  and  the  charge  of  the  best  parish  in  the 
province.  But,  with  all  these  accomplishments,  he  is  despised  by  some, 
ridiculed  by  others,  and  detested  by  more,  only  because  he  is  suspected  of 
Arminianism.  And  I  have  the  pain  to  know  more  than  one,  who  has  a 
sleepy,  stupid  soul,  who  has  spent  more  of  his  waking  hours  in  darning  his 
stockings,  smoking  his  pipe,  or  playing  with  his  fingers,  than  in  reading, 
conversation,  or  reflection,  cried  up  as  promising  young  men,  pious  and 
orthodox  youths,  and  admirable  preachers.  As  far  as  I  can  observe,  people 
are  not  disposed  to  inquire  for  piety,  integrity,  good  sense,  or  learning,  in  a 
young  preacher,  but  for  stupidity  (for  so  I  must  call  the  pretended  sanctity 
of  some  absolute  dunces)  irresistible  grace  and  original  sin.  I  have  not,  in 
one  expression,  exceeded  the  limits  of  truth,  though  you  tliink  I  am  warm. 
Could  you  advise  me,  then,  who,  you  know,  have  not  the  highest  opinion 
of  what  is  called  orthodoxy,  to  engage  in  a. profession  like  this? 

The  students  in  the  law  are  very  numerous,  and  some  of  them 
youths  of  which  no  country,  no  age  would  need  to  be  ashamed,  and,  if  I 
can  gain  the  honor  of  treading  in  the  rear  and  silently  admiring  the  noble 
air  and  gallant  achievements  of  the  foremost  rank,  I  shall  think  myself 
worthy  of  a  louder  trumpet  than  if  I  had  headed  the  whole  army  of  ortho 
dox  preachers.  .  .  .  I  have  cast  myself  wholly  upon 
fortune.  What  her  ladyship  will  be  pleased  to  do  with  me,  I  can't  say. 
But,  wherever  she  shall  lead  me,  or  whatever  she  shall  do  with  me,  she 
cannot  abate  the  sincerity  with  which,  I  trust,  I  shall  always  be  your  friend. 

JOHN  ADAMS." 

This  letter  lay  buried  among  the  private  papers  of  Mr.  Cushing,  until, 
in  the  year  1817,  some  unknown  person  obtained  a  copy  of  it  and  caused 
its  publication  in  a  paper  of  Nantucket.  A  son  of  Mr.  Cushing  then  wrote 


ACADEMIC,    COLLEGIATE,    AND  PROFESSIONAL  EDUCATION.  2/1 

Mr.  Adams,  expressing  his  regret  and  innocence  in  the  matter,  and  the 
former,  in  his  reply,  gives  undoubted  symptoms  of  mortification.  He 
speaks  of  it  as  "a  juvenile  production,",  and  adds,  "I  was  like  a  boy  at  a 
country  fair — in  a  wilderness,  in  a  strange  country,  with  half  a  dozen  roads 
before  him,  groping  in  a  dark  night  to  find  which  he  ought  to  take.  Had  I 
been  obliged  to  tell  your  father  the  whole  truth,  I  should  have  mentioned 
several  other  pursuits — farming,  merchandise,  law,  and,  above  all,  war. 
.;othing  but  want  of  interest  and  patronage  prevented  me  from  enlisting  in 
ihe  army.  .  .  .  .  It  is  a  problem  to  my  mind,  to  this  day, 
whether  I  should  have  been  a  coward  or  a  hero."  The  letter  to  Gushing 
has  just  enough  of  truth  in  it  to  excuse  a  somewhat  opinionated  young 
man  of  twenty-one  years  writing  it.  He  had  been  subjected  to  a  great 
amount  of  gratuitous  advice,  most  of  which  conflicted  with  his  own  convic 
tions;  he  had  chosen  the  least  honored  profession,  in  preference  to*  that 
which  stood  highest ;  he  knew  that  his  wisdom  would  be  questioned,  and 
his  pride  assumed  aggression  before  he  was  attacked.  It  was  in  this  spirit 
diat  he  wrote  to  Gushing,  and  he  naturally  paraded  his  grievances  against 
the  church  in  such  light  as  would  best  tend  to  justify  himself.  He  wrote, 
however,  about  the  same  time,  a  letter  to  his  friend  Cranch,  which  is  more 
just,  judicial,  and  in  every  particular  more  satisfactory.  The  following 
quotation  will  illustrate  its  spirit:  "  I  expect  to  be  joked  upon  for  writing 
to  this  serious  manner,  when  it  shall  be  known  what  a  resolution  I  have 
tately  taken.  I  have  engaged  with  Mr.  Putnam  to  study  law  with  him  two 
years,  and  to  keep  the  school  at  the  same  time.  It  will  be  hard  work,  but 
'ihe  more  difficult  and  dangerous  the  enterprise,  a  brighter  crown  of  laurel 
tfs  bestowed  on  the  conqueror.  However.  I  am  not  without  apprehensions 
concerning  the  success  of  this  resolution,  but  I  am  under  much  fewer 
apprehensions  than  I  was  when  I  thought  of  preaching.  The  frightful 
inquiries  of  ecclesiastical  councils,  of  diabolical  malice,  and  Calvinistical 
^ood  nature,  never  failed  to  terrify  me  exceeding!}*,  whenever  I  thought  of 
preaching.  But  the  point  is  now  determined,  and  I  shall  have  liberty  to 
ihink  for  myself,  without  molesting  others,  or  being  molested  myself. 
Write  me  the  first  good  opportunity,  and  tell  me  freely,  whether  you 
Approve  my  conduct." 

Two  more  quotations  from  the  writings  of  Mr.  Adams — now  from  his 
.private  diary  and  autobiography — and  we  may  permit  him  to  continue  his 
law  studies : 

"Yesterday  I  completed  a  contract  with  Mr.  Putnam,  to  study  law 
under  his  inspection  for  two  years.  I  ought  to  begin  with  a  resolution  to 
oblige  him  and  his  lady  in  a  particular  manner.  I  ought  to  endeavor  to 
oblige  and  please  even-body,  but  them  in  a  particular  manner.  Necessity 
drove  me  to  this  determination,  but  my  inclination,  I  think,  was  to  preach. 
However,  that  would  not  do,  but  I  set  out  with  firm  resolutions,  I  think, 


2/2  JOHN    ADAMS. 

never  to  commit  any  meanness  or  injustice  in  the  practice  of  law.  The  study 
and  practice  of  law,  I  am  sure,  does  not  dissolve  the  obligations  of  morality 
or  of  religion.  And,  although  the  reason  of  my  quitting  divinity  was  my 
opinion  concerning  some  disputed  points,  I  hope  I  shall  not  give  reason  for 
offense  to  any  in  that  profession  by  imprudent  warmth." 

The  second  quotation  is  from  his  autobiography,  and  gives,  in  his  own 
words,  a  summary  of  Mr.  Adam's  life,  from  the  time  of  his  leaving  college 
until  the  beginning  of  his  articled  clerkship  with  Mr.  Putnam.  It  repeats 
some  of  the  particulars  already  given,  but  admirably  supplements  the  brief 
account  of  his  intellectual  interregnum,  to  which  the  author  has  been  limited. 

"Between  the  years  1752,  when  I  entered,  and  1755,  when  I  left,  col 
lege,  a  controversy  was  carried  on  between  Mr.  Bryant,  the  minister  of  our 
parish,  and  some  of  his  people,  partly  on  account  of  his  principles,  which 
were  called  Arminian,  and  partly  on  account  of  his  conduct,  which  was  too 
gay  and  light,  if  not  immoral.  Ecclesiastical  councils  were  called,  and  sat 
at  my  father's  house.  Parties  and  acrimonies  arose  in  the  church  and  con 
gregation,  and  controversies  from  the  press,  between  Mr.  Bryant,  Mr.  Niles, 
Mr.  Porter,  and  Mr.  Bass,  concerning  the  fine  points.  I  read  all  these 
pamphlets,  and  many  other  writings  on  the  same  subjects,  and  found  myself 
involved  in  difficulties  beyond  my  powers  of  decision.  At  the  same  time, 
I  saw  such  a  spirit  of  dogmatism  and  bigotry  in  clergymen  and  laity,  that, 
if  I  should  be  a  priest,  I  must  take  my  side  and  pronounce  as  positively 
as  any  of  them,  or  never  get  a  parish,  or  getting  it,  must  soon  leave  it. 
Very  strong  doubts  arose  in  my  mind,  whether  I  was  made  for  a  pulpit  in 
such  times,  and  I  began  to  think  of  other  professions.  I  perceived  very 
clearly,  as  I  thought,  that  the  study  of  theology,  and  the  pursuit  of  it  as  a 
profession,  would  involve  me  in  endless  altercations,  and  make  my  life 
miserable,  without  any  prospect  of  doing  any  good  to  my  fellow  men.  The 
last  two  years  of  my  residence  at  college,  produced  a  club  of  students  (I 
never  knew  the  history  of  the  first  rise  of  it)  who  invited  me  to  become  one 
of  them.  Their  plan  was  to  spend  their  evenings  together,  in  reading  any 
new  publications,  or  any  poetry  or  dramatic  compositions  that  might  fall  in 
their  way.  I  was  as  often  requested  to  read  as  any  other,  especially  trage 
dies,  and  it  was  often  whispered  to  me,  and  circulated  among  others,  that  I 
had  some  faculty  for  public  speaking,  and  that  I  should  make  a  better  law 
yer  than  divine.  This  last  idea  was  easily  understood  and  embraced  by  me. 
My  inclination  was  soon  fixed  upon  the  law.  But  my  judgment  was  not  so 
easily  determined.  There  were  many  difficulties  in  the  way.  Although  my 
father's  general  expectation  was  that  I  should  be  a  divine,  I  knew  him  to 
be  a  man  of  so  thoughtful  and  considerate  a  turn  of  mind,  to  be  possessed 
of  so  much  candor  and  moderation,  that  it  would  not  be  difficult  to  remove 
any  objections  he  might  make  to  my  pursuit  of  physic  or  law,  or  any  other 
reasonable  course.  My  mother,  although  a  pious  woman,  I  knew  had  no 


ACADEMIC,    COLLEGIATE,    AND    PROFESSIONAL    EDUCATION.  2/3 

partiality  for  the  life  of  a  clergyman.  But  I  had  uncles  and  other  relations, 
full  of  the  most  illiberal  prejudices  against  the  law.  I  had,  indeed,  a 
proper  affection  and  veneration  for  them,  but,  as  I  was  under  no  obligation 
of  gratitude  to  them,  which  could  give  them  any  claim  of  authority  to  pre 
scribe  a  course  of  life  to  me,  I  thought  little  of  their  opinions.  Other 
obstacles,  more  serious  than  these,  presented  themselves.  A  lawyer  must 
have  a  fee  for  taking  me  into  his  office.  I  must  be  boarded  and  clothed  for 
several  years.  I  had  no  money ;  and  my  father,  having  three  sons,  had 
done  as  much  for  me,  in  the  expenses  of  my  education,  as  his  estate  and 
circumstances  could  justify,  and  as  my  reason  or  my  honor  would  allow  me 
to  ask.  I  therefore  gave  out  that  I  would  take  a  school,  and  took  my 
degree  at  college  undetermined  whether  I  should  study  divinity,  law,  or 
physic. 

"In  the  public  exercises  at  commencement,  I  was  somewhat  remarked 
as  a  respondent,  and  Mr.  Maccarty,  of  Worcester,  who  was  empowered  by 
the  selectmen  of  that  town  to  procure  them  a  Latin  master,  for  their  gram 
mar-school,  engaged  me  to  undertake  it.  About  three  weeks  after  com 
mencement,  in  1/55,  when  I  was  not  yet  twenty  years  of  age,  a  horse  was 
sent  from  Worcester  and  a  man  to  attend  me.  We  made  the  journey- 
about  sixty  miles — in  one  clay,  and  I  entered  on  my  office.  For  about 
three  weeks,  I  boarded  with  one  Green,  at  the  expense  of  the  town,  and  by 
the  arrangements  of  the  selectmen.  Here  I  found  Morgan's  Moral  Philos 
opher,  which,  I  was  informed,  had  circulated  with  some  freedom  in  that 
town,  and  that  the  principles  of  deism  had  made  a  considerable  progress 
among  several  people  in  that  and  other  towns  of  the  count}'.  Three  months 
after  this,  the  selectmen  procured  lodgings  for  me  at  Dr.  Nahum  Willard's. 
This  physician  had  a  large  practice,  a  good  reputation  for  skill,  and  a  pretty 
library.  Here  were  Dr.  Chcyne's  works,  Sydenham  and  others,  and  Van 
Swieten's  Commentaries  on  Boerhaavc.  I  read  a  good  deal  in  these  books, 
and  entertained  many  thoughts  of  becoming  a  physician  and  surgeon.  But 
the  law  attracted  my  attention  more  and  more;  and,  attending  the  court  of 
justice,  where  I  heard  Worthington,  Ilawley,  Trowbridge.  Putnam,  and 
others,  I  felt  myself  irresistibly  impelled  to  make  some  effort  to  accomplish 
my  wishes.  I  made  a  visit  to  Mr.  Putnam,  and  offered  myself  to  him.  lie 
received  me  with  politeness,  and  even  kindness,  took  a  few  days  to  con 
sider  of  it,  and  then  informed  me  that  Mrs.  Putnam  had  consented  that  I 
should  board  in  his  house,  that  I  should  pay  no  more  than  the  town  allowed 
for  my  lodgings,  and  that  I  should  pay  him  a  hundred  dollars,  when  I 
should  find  it  convenient.  I  agreed  to  his  proposals  without  hesitation,  and 
immediately  took  possession  of  his  office.  His  library,  at  that  time,  was 
not  large;  but  he  had  all  the  most  essential  law  books.  Immediately  after 
I  entered  with  him,  however,  he  sent  to  England  fora  handsome  addition  of 
law  books,  and  for  Lord  Bacon's  works.  I  carried  with  me  to  Worcester,  Lord 


2/4  JOHN    ADAMS. 

Bolingbroke's  Study  and  Use  of  History,  and  his  Patriot  King.  These  I 
lent  him,  and  he  was  so  well  pleased,  that  he  added  Bolingbroke's  works  to 
his  list,  and  gave  me  an  opportunity  of  reading  the  posthumous  works  of 
that  writer  in  five  volumes.  Mr.  Burke  once  asked  who  ever  read  them 
through.  I  can  answer  that  I  read  them  through  before  the  year  1758,  and 
that  I  have  read  them  through  at  least  twice  since  that  time.  But,  I  confess, 
without  much  good  or  harm.  His  ideas  of  the  English  constitution  are 
correct,  and  his  political  writings  are  worth  something  ;  but,  in  a  great  part 
of  them,  there  is  more  fiction  than  truth.  His  religion  is  a  pompous  folly; 
and  his  abuse  of  the  Christian  religion  is  as  superficial  as  it  is  impious. 
His  style  is  original  and  inimitable ;  it  resembles  more  the  oratory  of  the 
ancients,  than  any  writings  or  speeches  I  ever  read  in  English. 


EARLY  LAW  PRACTICE SEEDS  OF  REBELLION.  2/5 


CHAPTER  II. 

1ARLY  LAW  PRACTICE  SEEDS  OF  REBELLION. 

MR.  ADAMS  continued  his  office  as  teacher  of  the  Worcester  school, 
and  his  studies  under  Mr.  Putnam,  until  the  month  of  October,  1758. 
Then,  bein^  eivitled  to  admission  to  practice,  he  desired  to  present  his 
application  for  a  license,  and  set  out  for  Boston  with  that  intent.  Arrived 
in  that  city  he  discovered  that  he  had  neglected  to  obtain  his  certificate  from 
Mr.  Putnam.  The  horseback  journey  of  sixty  miles,  to  \Yorcester,  with 
the  return,  was  no  light  matter  to  undertake  for  the  reparation  of  this  mis 
take,  and  desiring,  if  possible,  to  avoid  it,  Mr.  Adams  betook  himself  to  Mr. 
Gridley,  then  attorney-general  of  the  province,  and,  as  a  lawyer  and  scholar, 
second  to  none  of  his  time.  After  a  few  moments'  conversation,  Mr.  Gridley 
seems  to  have  been  full}'  satisfied  as  to  the  attainments  of  the  yor.ng  aspirant, 
for  he  took  the  unusual  responsibility  of  giving  him  a  personal  recommen 
dation  to  the  court,  which  procured  him  instant  admission  to  practice.  This 
kind  and  flattering  act  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Gridlcy  was  only  the  first  of  a 
long  succession  of  demonstrations  of  affection  and  confidence.  He  gave 
Mr.  Adams,  at  that  time  and  later,  much  invaluable  advice  as  to  his  profes 
sional  and  personal  future,  and  later  supplemented  it  by  giving  more  sub 
stantial  aid,  throwing  business  into  the  hands  of  his  younger  brother  at  the 
bar,  when  such  help  was  sadly  needed.  So  was  Adams  launched  upon  the 
uncertain  waters  of  his  chosen  profession. 

Mr.  Adams  selected  his  native  village,  Braintrce,  as  the  place  for  prac 
ticing  his  profession,  settling  there  immediately  after  his  admission  to  the 
bar.  He  resided  with  his  father  in  the  homestead  until  May  25,  1761, 
when  the  latter  died.  After  this  event,  and  until  his  own  marriage,  in  1764, 
he  continued  with  his  mother.  There  is  little  of  incident  in  those  earl}' days 
of  his  legal  life.  Braintree  was  far  from  a  promising  place  of  settlement; 
small  as  it  was,  its  population  does  not  convey  to  us  at  this  day  any  just  idea 
Of  the  difficulty  of  there  making  even  a  bare  living  by  the  law,  during  the  last 


2/6  JOHN    ADAMS. 

century.  It  has  been  said  that  the  people  of  Massachusetts  were  but  ill  dis 
posed  toward  lawyers.  The  most  controversial  people  in  America,  they  were 
perhaps  the  least  litigious ;  they  would  quarrel  sooner  over  a  dogma  than 
a  question  of  property,  and  more  readily  forgive  an  injury  to  themselves  than 
the  heresy  of  a  neighbor.  They  went  little  to  law,  and,  when  arbitration 
would  not  suffice,  and  they  were  driven  or  dragged  into  court,  were  apt  to 
think  themselves  fully  equal  to  the  trial  of  their  own  causes.  So  Braintree 
was  to  a  lawyer,  much  what  a  church  is  to  a  mouse, — a  middle  ground 
between  living  and  starvation.  Yet  the  time  spent  by  Mr.  Adams  in  the 
little  village  was  far  from  lost.  If  there  was  little  to  do  and  less  to  make,  it 
was  also  true  that  little  was  needed  ;  that  the  village  was  primitive  ;  that 
neither  display  nor  more  than  the  simplest  hospitality  was  called  for. 
Then,  too,  such  practice  as  there  was,  offered,  as  elsewhere  in  a  country 
town,  the  best  of  discipline  for  a  young  lawyer.  The  attention  to  minute 
points  of  law  and  practice,  the  careful  devotion  to  detail  in  preparation,  the 
guarding  against  the  arts  of  pettifogging  opponents,  all  these  laid  the  foun 
dation  of  valuable  habits,  little  likely  to  be  acquired  in  a  larger  field,  where 
small  cases  are  rather  despised.  Then,  too,  when  a  trial  was  held,  it  was  an 
event  of  universal  interest  in  the  contracted  field.  It  was  protracted  uncon 
scionably  ;  the  evidence  was  sifted  with  industry,  if  not  with  the  greatest 
skill ;  arguments  were  as  long  and  labored  in  a  case  involving  the  value  of  a 
sheep,  as  they  would  be  in  the  heaviest  action  in  a  community  where  litiga 
tion  was  more  common  and  important.  Then,  too,  there  was  the  inspira 
tion  of  an  audience,  the  praise,  the  condemnation,  the  applause  of  neigh 
bors  and  friends.  The  bar  was  usually  present  as  a  unit,  and  gave  the  force 
of  its  criticism  to  place  counsel  upon  their  mettle,  and,  after  the  cause  was 
tried  and  determined,  it  was  the  talk  of  the  village,  until  another  sheep  was 
killed.  So,  surrounded  by  these  influences,  which,  continuing  for  many 
years,  tend  to  make  the  lifelong  country  lawyer  narrow  and  mechanical, 
Adams,  during  his  few  years  at  Braintree,  learned  only  to  be  painstaking 
and  exact,  doing  everything  that  he  undertook,  great  or  small,  to  the  best 
of  his  ability.  He  was  wise  enough,  too,  to  regard  his  admission  to  the 
bar  as  a  form,  neither  the  necessary  end  of  preparation,  of  study  and  develop 
ment,  nor  certainly  the  gate  to  wealth  and  reputation.  While  he  awaited 
clients,  he  made  himself,  day  by  day,  more  worthy  of  their  confidence  and 
trust.  Again  it  is  best  to  turn  to  the  words  of  his  journal  to  obtain  a  view 
of  his  plans  and  resolves.  It  reads  almost  like  a  treatise  on  professional 
ethics,  though  written  by  a  man  then  but  twenty-five  years  of  age. 

"Labor  to  get  distinct  ideas  of  law,  right,  wrong,  justice,  equity;  search 
for  them  in  your  own  mind,  in  Roman,  Grecian,  French,  English  treatises, 
of  natural,  civil,  common,  statute  law.  Aim  at  an  exact  knowledge  of  the 
nature,  end,  and  means  of  government.  Compare  the  different  forms  of  it 
with  each  other,  and  each  of  them  with  their  effects  on  public  and  private 


EARLY  LAW  PRACTICE SEEDS  OF  REBELLION.  2/7 

happiness.     Study  Seneca,  Cicero,  and  all  other  good  moral  writers ;  study 
Montesquieu,  Bolingbroke,  Vinnius,  etc.,  and  all  other  good  civil  writers. 

"1760.  I  have  read  a  multitude  of  law  books;  mastered  but  few. 
Wood,  Coke,  two  volumes  Lillie's  abridgement,  two  volumes  Salkeld's 
reports,  Swinburne,  Hawkins'  Pleas  of  the  Crown,  Fortescue;  Fitzgibbon, 
ten  volumes  in  folio,  I  read  at  Worcester  quite  through,  besides  octavos 
and  lesser  volumes,  and  many  others,  of  all  sizes,  that  I  consulted  occasion 
ally,  without  reading  in  course,  as  dictionaries,  reports,  entries,  and  abridge 
ments.  I  cannot  give  so  good  an  account  of  the  improvement  of  my  last 
two  years  spent  in  Braintree.  However,  I  have  read  no  small  number  of 
volumes  upon  law  the  last  two  years.  Justinian's  Institutes  I  have  read 
through  in  Latin,  with  Vinnius  perpetual  notes;  Van  Muyden's  Tractatio 
Institiitiomim  Justianiani,  I  read  through  and  translated  mostly  into  English 
from  the  same  language." 

Then  follows  a  long  list  of  other  works  read,  many  of  them  very 
abstruse  and  far  out  of  the  ordinary  course  of  legal  study.  The  journal  is 
thus  continued: 

"I  must  form  a  serious  resolution  of  beginning  and  continuing  quite 
through  the  plans  of  my  Lords  Hale  and  Reeve.  Wood's  Institutes  of  the 
Common  Law  I  never  read  but  once,  and  my  Lord  Coke's  Commentaries 
on  Littleton  I  have  never  read  but  once.  These  two  authors  I  must  get  and 
read  over  and  over  again.  And  I  will  get  them,  too,  and  break  through,  as 
Mr.  Gridley  expresses  it,  all  obstructions.  Besides,  I  am  but  a  novice  in 
natural  and  civil  law.  There  are  multitudes  of  excellent  authors  on  natural 
law,  that  I  have  never  read ;  indeed,  I  never  read  any  part  of  the  best 
authors,  Puffendorf  and  Grotius.  In  civil  law  there  are  Hoppius  and 
Vinnius,  commentators  on  Justinian,  Domat,  etc.,  besides  institutes  of 
canon  and  feudal  law  that  I  have  never  read."  This  attributing  to  himself,  as 
a  fault,  ignorance  of  the  text  of  authors  whom  the  majority  of  lawyers  of 
to-day  know  only  by  name  or  not  at  all,  is  sufficient  index  of  the  standard  of 
scholarship  which  Adams  had  net  for  himself.  His  habit  of  self-scrutiny 
and  criticism  was  not  confined  to  matters  of  attainment.  He  was  no  less 
censorious  in  regard  to  morals  and  manners,  as  the  following  self-arraign 
ment  shows:  "  Pretensions  to  wisdom  and  virtue  superior  to  all  the  world, 
will  not  be  supported  by  words  only.  If  I  tell  a  man  that  I  am  wiser  and 
better  than  he,  or  any  other  man,  he  will  cither  despise  or  hate  or  pity  me, 
perhaps  all  three.  1  have  not  conversed  enough  with  the  world  to  converse 
rightly.  I  talk  to  Paine  about  Greek  ;  that  makes  him  laugh.  I  talk  to 
Sam  Quincy  about  resolution,  and  being  a  great  man,  and  study,  and  improv 
ing  time  ;  which  makes  him  laugh.  I  talk  to  Ned  about  the  folly  of  affecting 
to  be  a  heretic  ;  which  makes  him  mad.  I  talk  to  Hannah  and  Esther  about 
the  folly  of  love;  about  despising  it;  about  being  above  it ;  pretend  to  be 
insensible  of  tender  passions ;  which  makes  them  laugh.  I  talk  to  Mr. 


278  JOHN    ADAMS. 

Wibird,  about  the  decline  of  learning;  tell  him  I  know  no  young  fellow  who 
promises  to  make  a  figure;  cast  sneers  on  Doctor  Morse  for  not  knowing 
xhe  value  of  old  Greek  and  Roman  authors;  ask  when  will  a  genius  rise 
that  will  not  shave  his  beard,  or  let  it  grow  rather,  and  sink  himself  in  a  cell 
in  order  to  make  a  figure.  I  talk  to  Parson  Smith  about  despising  gay  dress, 
grand  buildings  and  estates,  fame,  etc.,  and  being  contented  with  what  will 
satisfy  the  real  wants  of  nature.  All  this  is  affectation  and  ostentation.  It 
is  affectation  of  learning  and  virtue  and  wisdom,  which  I  have  not;  and  it  is 
a  weak  fondness  to  show  all  that  I  have,  and  to  be  thought  to  have  more 
than  I  have.  Besides  this,  I  have  insensibly  fallen  into  a  habit  of  affecting 
wit  and  humor,  of  shrugging  my  shoulders  and  moving,  distorting  the 
muscles  of  my  face.  My  motions  are  stiff,  uneasy,  and  ungraceful,  and 
my  attention  is  unsteady  and  irregular.  These  are  reflections  on  myself 
that  I  make.  They  are  faults,  defects,  fopperies,  and  follies,  and  disadvan 
tages.  Can  I  mend  these  faults  and  supply  these  defects?" 

What  an  invaluable  knowledge  of  the  methods  of  self-education,  char 
acter-building,  and  discipline,  do  these  quotations  give.  After  reading 
them,  considering  that  they  were  written  in  a  private  journal,  where,  if 
anywhere,  we  may  look  for  sincerity,  it  is  no  longer  a  matter  of  surprise 
that,  from  so  grave  and  conscientious  a  youth,  Adams  attained  a  maturity 
so  grand  and  noble. 

While  a  student  at  Worcester,  Mr.  Adams  made  the  acquaintance  of 
David  Sewall,  a  man  several  years  his  senior,  but  who  was  admitted  to  the 
practice  of  the  law  but  a  short  time  before  himself.  Sewall  possessed  brilliant 
ability,  and  was,  in  mind  and  character,  fitted  to  be  a  congenial  friend  of  the 
younger  man.  Such  he  became,  and  nothing  broke  the  perfect  harmony 
and  confidence  of  the  two,  until  arose  the  issues  between  Great  Britain  and 
her  colonies,  which  led  to  the  War  of  Independence;  then  Adams  entered, 
body  and  soul,  into  the  patriot  cause,  while  Sewall,  with  no  less  vigor  and 
honesty,  embraced  that  of  the  king.  After  the  peace,  Sewall  went  to  Eng 
land,  where,  after  remaining  for  some  time,  he  secured  an  appointment  as 
colonial  judge  in  Nova  Scotia,  and,  buried  in  that  then  wild  and  remote 
province,  ended  a  disappointed  and  embittered  life.  During  the  residence 
of  Adams  at  Braintrce,  the  two  maintained  a  correspondence  which  was  of 
great  value  to  both.  Their  letters  contained  no  commonplaces  or  gossip, 
and  were  largely  devoted  to  abstract  discussions  of  philosophy,  morals,  and 
law.  Sprinkled  through  their  pages  were  actual  or  supposititious  problems 
in  law,  propounded  by  one  for  the  solution  or  advice  of  the  other,  and 
usually  answered  with  care,  if  not  elaborately  or  profoundly.  Such  a  cor 
respondence  was  useful  to  both,  and,  did  it  exist  in  its  entirety,  would  to-day 
be  a  most  important  assistance  to  the  biographer.  Those  letters  which  are 
still  extant  cast  much  light  upon  the  genesis  of  Adams'  ideas,  principles, 
and  methods,  and,  did  space  permit,  the  author  would  gladly  transfer  them 


EARLY  LAW  PRACTICE — SEEDS  OF  REBELLION,  2/9 

bodily  to  his  work.      One   quotation  must,  however,  be  sufficient ;   this  from 
a  letter  of  Adams  to  Sewall,  dated  February,   1760: 

"There  is  but  little  pleasure,  which  reason  can  approve,  to  be  received 
from  the  noisy  applause  and  servile  homage  that  is  paid  to  any  officer,  from 
the  lictor  to  the  dictator,  or  from  the  sexton  of  a  parish  to  the  sovereign  of 
a  kingdom.  And  reason  will  despise,  equally,  a  blind,  undistinguishing 
adoration  of  what  the  world  calls  fame.  She  is  neither  a  goddess  to  be 
loved,  nor  a  demon  to  be  feared,  but  an  unsubstantial  phantom,  existing 
only  in  the  imagination.  But,  with  all  this  contempt,  give  me  leave  to 
reserve  (for  I  am  sure  that  reason  will  warrant)  a  strong  affection  for  the 
honest  approbation  of  the  wise  and  good,  both  in  the  present  and  all  futuio 
generations.  Mistake  not  this  for  an  expectation  of  the  life  to  come,  in  the 
poet's  creed.  Far  otherwise.  I  expect  to  be  totally  forgotten  wivhin  sev 
enty  years  of  the  present  hour,  unless  the  insertion  of  my  name  i.i  the  col 
lege  catalogue  should  luckily  preserve  it  longer.  When  heaven  designs  an 
extraordinary  character,  one  that  shall  distinguish  his  path  through  the 
world  by  any  great  effects,  it  never  fails  to  furnish  the  proper  means  and 
opportunities;  but  the  common  herd  of  mankind,  who  are  to  be  born,  and 
eat,  and  sleep,  and  die,  and  be  forgotten,  is  thrown  into  the  world,  as  it 
were  at  random,  without  any  visible  preparation  of  accommodations.  Vet, 
though  I  have  very  few  hopes,  I  am  not  ashamed  to  own  that  a  prospect  of 
immortality,  in  the  memories  of  all  the  worthy,  to  the  end  of  time,  would 
be  a  high  gratification  of  my  wishes." 

In  the  spring  of  1/65,  Mr.  .Adams  obtained  his  first  important  retainer, 
being  engaged  by  the  Plymouth  company,  to  try  a  case  in  its  interest,  at 
Pownalborough,  on  the  Kennebec  river,  then  almost  at  the  limit  of  civiliza 
tion.  He  had  the  good  fortune  to  win  his  cause,  and,  from  that  time, 
became  general  counsel  of  the  company,  a  lucrative  post,  which  not  only 
gave  him  a  comfortable  income,  but  brought  him  into  relation  with  the  legal 
public,  earned  him  notice,  and,  indirectly,  a  largely  increased  practice. 

The  interval  between  Mr.  .Adams'  settlement  in  Braintrec,  and  his 
entry  into  public  life,  must  be  very  briefly  discussed.  His  practice  increased, 
but  very  slowly,  and  he  had  time,  and  to  spare,  for  the  reading  and  study 
which  he  had  planned.  On  the  25th  of  May,  1/61,  his  father  died,  leaving 
him  the  head  of  the  house,  with  the  care  of  his  mother  and  two  younger 
brothers.  His  townsmen  honored  him  with  an  election  to  the  office  of  sur 
veyor  of  highways,  to  the  not  difficult  duties  of  which  position  he  devoted 
himself  with  the  greatest  assiduity.  On  the  25th  of  October,  1764,  he 
married  Abigail  Smith,  daughter  of  the  Rev.  William  Smith,  pastor  ot 
the  Congregational  church,  at  Weymouth.  Mrs.  Adams  was  descended,  on 
the  mother's  side,  from  the  Quincys,  a  family  which  had  stood  out  in  relief 
from  the  earliest  days  of  the  colony,  holding  high  places  in  the  church,  in 
politics,  literature,  and  society.  She  was,  in  common  with  all  the  women 


28O  JOHN    ADAMS. 

of  her  family,  an  exception  to  the  rule  which,  at  that  day,  denied  to  so 
many  of  her  sex  the  privileges  of  liberal  education.  By  nature,  kind  and 
amiable ;  by  breeding,  refined  ;  by  association  and  persuasion,  religious  ; 
possessed  of  a  mind  far  above  the  average,  which  had  been  carefully  culti 
vated  and  stored,  she  seemed  then,  and  time  more  than  approved  her  claim, 
the  very  woman  to  be  to  Adams  at  once  all  that  a  wife,  and  all  that  a 
sympathizing  and  encouraging  companion  could  be.  The  two  were  always 
thoroughly  en  rapport,  and  in  no  writings  of  Adams',  not  even  in  his  jour 
nal,  do  we  see  so  much  of  the  man,  or  learn  so  much  of  his  real  opinions  of 
the  measures  which  grew  under  his  eye,  as  in  his  familiar  letters  to  his  wife. 
In  1761,  came  the  first  hint  of  trouble  between  king  and  colonies,  and 
that,  too,  in  the  province  of  Massachusetts  and  directly  within  the  field  of 
Adams'  vision,  and,  from  that  time,  for  twenty-one  years,  he  ranged  him 
self  on  the  side  of  his  country,  sounding  every  note  in  the  scale,  from  pro 
testation  to  rebellion.  The  history  of  this  germination  of  freedom  is  else- 
where  related  in  these  pages.  The  exclusive  trade  of  the  colonies  was 
claimed  by  the  king,  but  the  temptation  offered  by  a  clandestine  traffic  with 
Spain,  Holland,  and  the  alien  colonies  of  the  West  Indies,  proving  too 
strong,  an  extensive  smuggling  trade  had  grown  up,  most  of  which  came  to 
Boston.  In  the  year  named,  the  King's  officers,  who  were  instructed  to 
break  up  this  inhibited  traffic,  applied  to  the  courts  of  Massachusetts  for 
writs  of  assistance,  to  protect  them  in  searching  houses  and  shops  for  contra 
band  goods.  Massachusetts  was  at  once  up  in  arms.  It  has  always  been 
little  better  than  impossible  to  convince  even  very  respectable  people,  that 
smuggling, — a  mere  malum  prohibitnm,  is  a  moral  wrong.  The  people  of 
Massachusetts  were  no  exceptions  to  this  rule  ;  their  furtive  trade  was  a 
source  of  great  profit  to  them,  and  they  had  only  assented  to  England's 
claim  of  a  commercial  eminent  domain,  with  a  mental  reservation.  Hence, 
when  these  radical  measures  were  proposed,  they  took  immediate  steps  to 
test  at  law  the  right  of  the  king.  The  matter  was  argued  before  the 
superior  court  of  the  province,  on  behalf  of  the  colony,  by  James  Otis,  a 
leader  of  the  bar.  Adams  had  lately  been  admitted  to  practice  in  that 
court,  and  listened  to  Otis'  speech,  which  was  the  first  formulation  of  the 
American  protest  against  royal  prerogative,  with  the  closest  attention. 
With  the  foresight  which  was  one  of  his  distinguishing  characteristics,  he 
looked  far  beyond  the  immediate  issue,  following  very  correctly  to  its  more 
weighty  results,  the  contest  thus  opened.  Grasping  the  principle,  not  its 
accidental  manifestation,  he  said  that  the  decision  of  the  contested  point 
involved  far  more  than  the  right  of  entering  a  domicile,  or  breaking  up  a 
smuggling  trade, — nothing  less,  in  fact,  than  the  whole  system  of  restric 
tion  and  control,  by  which  Great  Britain  insured  to  herself  the  profit  arising 
from  her  colonies.  He  did  not  foresee  independence  ;  had  he  done  so,  it 
would  have  been  to  lament  it  as  a  disastrous  issue. 


THE   STAMP    ACT    AND    ITS    EFFECT. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  STAMP  ACT  AND  ITS  EFFECT     THE  BRAINTREE  RESOLUTIONS. 

IF  we  except  the  holding  of  the  office  of  surveyor  of  highways,  to  which 
reference  has  been  made,  we  may  date  Mr.  Adams'  entry  into  poli 
tics  from  the  passage  of  the  stamp  act,  news  of  which  reached  the  colonies 
late  in  1764.  Massachusetts  was  first  in  the  field  in  opposition  to  the  out 
rage,  and  the  little  community  at  Braintree  was  among  the  first  to  take 
action  in  that  colony.  Adams  initiated  the  movement,  by  drawing  and  circu 
lating  for  signature,  a  petition  to  the  selectmen  of  the  town,  praying  them 
to  call  a  meeting  of  the  people,  to  take  action  in  the  premises,  and  to 
instruct  their  representative  in  the  court  in  relation  to  the  stamps.  Before 
meeting,  he  prepared  a  draft  of  instructions,  according  to  his  own  idea  of 
propriety,  and,  carrying  them  with  him,  presented  them  for  action.  They 
were  adopted  without  a  dissenting  voice.  Upon  being  published,  they  met 
the  very  general  approval  of  the  people,  and  were  adopted  in  part  by  the 
citizens  of  Boston,  and  wholly  by  no  less  than  forty  towns.  This,  of 
course,  served  to  add  to  his  public  reputation,  and,  from  that  day,  his  inter 
vals  of  life,  uninterrupted  by  public  service  were  neither  many  nor  of  long 
duration.  Still,  there  remained  for  some  years  a  divided  allegiance  between 
the  law,  which  he  could  not  afford  entirely  to  give  over,  and  the  cause  which 
had  so  warmly  enlisted  his  sympathy  and  devotion. 

There  was,  in  Boston,  as  elsewhere,  a  great  diversity  of  opinion  as  to 
the  proper  way  of  meeting  the  stamp  act,  sounding  the  whole  popular 
gamut,  from  the  howling  of  an  irresponsible  and  riotous  mob,  to  the  sub 
missive  whining  of  the  few  who  deprecated  even  protest.  Boston  was,  for 
a  time,  reduced  to  a  condition  of  terrorism.  The  stamp  act  passed  in 
March,  and  was  to  go  into  effect  November  1st.  On  the  29th  of  May,  the 
General  Court  of  Massachusetts  met  in  annual  session,  at  Boston.  Sir 
Francis  Bernard  was  king's  governor  at  the  time,  and,  in  his  usual  set 

o  t*> 

speech  to  the  assembly,  though  he  knew  how  thoroughly  absorbed   were 


282  JOHN    ADAMS. 

the  people  in  discussing  and  considering  the  act,  he  wisely  evaded  a  t.ircct 
mention  of  it.  John  Quincy  Adams  has  thus  summarized  the  concluding 
portion  of  the  address,  which  clearly  showrs  a  desire  to  avoid  any  issue  with 
legislators  or  people:  "He  concluded  his  speech  by  an  apologetic  and 
monitorial  paragraph,  informing  them  that  the  general  settlement  of  the 
American  provinces,  long  before  proposed,  would  now  probably  be  prose 
cuted  to  its  utmost  completion.  That  it  must  necessarily  produce  some 
regulations,  which,  for  their  novelty  ONLY,  would  appear  disagreeable.  But 
he  was  convinced,  and  doubted  not  but  experience  would  confirm  it,  that 
they  would  operate,  as  they  wrere  designed,  for  the  benefit  and  advantage 
of  the  colonies.  In  the  meantime,  a  respectable  submission  to  the  decrees 
of  parliament  was  their  interest,  as  well  as  their  duty.  That,  in  an  empire 
extended  and  diversified  as  that  of  Great  Britain,  there  must  be  a  supreme 
legislature,  to  which  all  other  power  must  be  subordinate.  But,"  he  adds, 
"  it  is  our  happiness  that  our  supreme  legislature,  the  parliament  of  Great 
Britain,  is  the  sanctuary  of  liberty  and  justice  ;  and  that  the  prince  who 
presides  over  it,  realizes  the  idea  of  a  patriot  king.  Surely,  then,  we  should 
submit  our  opinions  to  the  determination  of  so  august  a  body,  and  acquiesce 
in  a  perfect  confidence  that  the  rights  of  the  members  of  the  British  empire, 
will  ever  be  safe  in  the  hands  of  the  conservators  of  the  liberties  of  the 
whole. " 

If  the  honorable  governor  expected  by  this  flimsy  expedient  to 
smooth  the  way  for  the  enforcement  of  the  stamp  act,  he  was  doomed  to 
disappointment.  Not  the  slightest  response  was  made  to  the  speech,  and 
such  silence  was  the  more  ominous  from  the  fact  that  an  answering  address 
had  customarily  been  voted.  In  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day,  however, 
the  assembly  appointed  committees  to  consider  and  report  upon  certain 
specified  clauses  of  the  speech,  which  were  considered  to  demand  attention, 
as  directly  affecting  the  commercial  interests  of  the  province.  On  the  5th 
of  June,  the  speaker  appointed  a  committee  to  report  upon  the  last  para 
graph  of  the  governor's  message.  For  various  reasons,  nothing  was  heard 
from  any  of  these  committees.  On  the  following  day,  however,  the 
house,  "  taking  into  consideration  the  many  difficulties  to  which  the  colonies 
were  and  must  be  reduced,  by  the  operation  of  some  late  acts  of  parlia 
ment  for  levying  duties  and  taxes  on  the  colonies,"  appointed  a  committee 
consisting  of  the  speaker  and  eight  other  members,  including  James  Otis, 
to  consider  and  report  as  to  the  proper  course  of  action  in  the  premises. 
This  committee  had  its  report  already  prepared.  It  was  from  the  pen  of 
Mr.  Otis,  and  recommended  that  the  assembly  should  communicate  with 
the  representative  body  of  each  colony,  urging  a  meeting  of  persons 
delegated  by  the  various  assemblies  and  houses  of  burgesses,  to  consult 
concerning  the  condition  of  the  colonies,  and  the  best  means  of  meeting 
the  serious  difficulties  arising  from  the  attempt  of  Great  Britain  to  levy 


THE    STAMP    ACT    AND    ITS    EFFECT.  28$ 

internal  taxes  ;  also  to  prepare  a  general  and  humble  address  to  the  king 
and  parliament,  imploring  relief.  It  was  further  recommended  that  the 
meeting  be  held  in  New  York,  on  the  first  Tuesday  of  the  ensuing  October, 
and  that  a  committee  of  three  members  of  the  house  be  appointed  to  repre 
sent  Massachusetts.  The  report  was  accepted  without  debate  or  dissent, 
and  the  committee  appointed,  Otis  being  made  one  of  its  members.  The 
resolutions  were  drawn  by  Mr.  Otis,  and,  though  there  has  been  some  dispo 
sition  to  dispute  the  priority  of  Massachusetts  in  the  movement,  the  best 
authorities  are  united  in  conceding  that  to  that  colony  at  large,  and  to  Mr. 
Otis,  in  particular,  is  clue  the  credit  of  originating  the  scheme  of  confedera 
tion  which  culminated  in  the  Continental  Congress,  and  bore  fruit  under  the 
constitution  of  1/87.  To  Otis  was  due  the  silence  of  the  earlier  appointed 
committee,  which,  had  it  carried  out  the  purposes  of  its  appointment,  would 
but  have  involved  the  colony  in  an  idle  discussion  with  a  subordinate  and 
irresponsible  officer  of  the  crown.  He  held  that  the  time  for  discussion  was 
past,  and  that  only  action,  and  that  united,  well  directed  and  wise,  could 
save,  at  once,  the  rights  and  the  dignity  of  the  American  colonies. 

\Yith  the  passage  of  the  Otis  resolutions,  ended  for  the  time,  in  Massa 
chusetts,  all  legislative  concern  with  the  stamp  act.  The  popular  sentiment 
was  strongly  aroused,  but  a  populace  is  in  one  respect  like  a  child, — it  is 
slow  to  recognize  a  principle,  but  sei/.es  at  once  the  material  fact  which 
results.  So  the  people  of  Hoston,  who  had  been  content  with  public  and 
respectful  protests  against  an  abstract  invasion  of  their  rights,  so  soon 
as  came  the  first  symptoms  of  the  enforcement  of  the  stamp  act,  were 
lashed  into  an  ungoverned  and  ungovernable  fury.  Andrew  Oliver  had 
solicited  the  appointment  of  distributor  of  the  stamps,  and,  feeling  assured 
that  he  should  receive  it,  had  caused  to  be  erected  a  small  building  for 
use  as  a  stamp  office.  Early  on  the  morning  of  August  I4th,  an  effigy 
of  Oliver  was  discovered  hanging  by  the  neck  to  a  branch  of  a  tree  on 
Main  street.  No  one  admitted  any  knowledge  of  the  authors  of  the 
grim  suggestion,  and  Hutchinson,  chief  justice  of  the  province,  and  a  relative 
of  Oliver,  gave  orders  to  the  sheriff  to  remove  the  object,  and,  should  any 
opposition  be  made,  report  the  names  of  the  offenders.  The  sheriff,  with 
rare  discretion,  committed  the  execution  of  this  order  to  his  deputies,  and 
they,  not  caring  to  similarly  ornament  the  remaining  boughs  of  the  tree, 
returned  and  reported  the  opposition  too  formidable  to  be  trifled  with.  So 
said  the  sheriff  to  the  chief-justice,  and  the  latter  at  once  convened  the 
council.  This  body  was  either  not  entirely  devoid  of  sympathy  with  the 
rabble,  or  possessed  a  degree  of  caution  equal  to  that  of  the  original  mes 
sengers,  for,  neither  at  this  session  nor  at  one  called  later  in  the  day,  were 
any  steps  taken  to  secure  the  removal  of  the  oscillating  duplicate  of  the 
unhappy  Oliver.  All  day  a  crowd  of  defiant  citizens  remained  assembled 
about  the  tree.  At  nightfall  they  cut  the  effigy  down,  bore  it  solemnly 


284  JOHN    ADAMS. 

through  the  town,  and,  passing  through  the  lower  corridor  of  the  town-house, 
while  the  lieutenant-governor  sat  overhead,  in  solemn  consultation  with  his 
counselors,  moved  on  to  Oliver's  stamp  office,  which  they  leveled  to  the 
ground.  They  then  proceeded  to  Fort  hill,  kindled  a  fire,  and  burned  the 
effigy.  Yet  they  were  not  satisfied.  Going  to  Oliver's  house,  which  was 
not  far  off,  they  frightened  its  owner  and  family  into  a  precipitate  flight, 
then  broke  down  the  fence  which  inclosed  it,  shattered  the  windows,  and 
even  damaged  furniture  and  pictures  within.  Hutchinson  had  sufficient 
courage  to  attempt  to  prevent  this  outrage,  but  was  glad  to  retire  with  a 
sound  body.  Mr.  Oliver,  on  the  following  day,  transmitted  to  England  his 
resignation  of  the  office  of  stamp  distributor,  and  under  the  tree  where  his 
effigy  had  been  suspended  gave  a  most  humble  and  solemn  assurance  that 
he  would  not  resume  it.  Having  thus  disposed  of  Oliver,  the  mob  turned 
their  attention  to  Hutchinson,  who  was  not  only  chief-justice  but  lieutenant- 
governor.  On  the  evening  of  the  day  of  Oliver's  recantation,  they  went  to 
Hutchinson 's  house,  and  demanded  that  he  show  himself  and  avow  that 
he  had  not  been  in  favor  of  the  stamp  act.  The  lieutenant  of  the  crown 
had,  however,  put  several  good  miles  between  himself  arid  his  over-zeal 
ous  townsmen,  having  retired  to  his  country  place  at  Milton.  There  he 
remained  for  twelve  days,  at  the  end  of  which  time,  deeming  return  safe, 
he  again  occupied  his  home  in  Boston.  That  very  night  the  house  was 
destroyed  by  the  rioters,  giving  Hutchinson  and  his  family  barely  time  to 
escape  with  their  lives.  Other  houses,  among  which  were  those  of  the 
register  of  the  admiralty  and  the  collector  of  the  customs,  were  seriously 
damaged. 

On  the  following  day,  a  town  meeting  was  held,  and  declared,  Dy  a 
unanimous  vote,  its  unqualified  condemnation  of  the  high-handed  proceed 
ings  of  the  mob.  There  was  something  bordering  on  the  humorous  in  this 
vote,  as  the  meeting  which  passed  it  probably  embraced  a  very  large  pro 
portion  of  the  men  who  had  done  the  mischief. 

Adams  was  not  in  Boston  during  this  excitement,  having  been  called 
to  Martha's  Vineyard  on  legal  business,  but  he  \vas  shocked  and  mortified 
at  the  course  taken  by  the  people.  None  of  them  surpassed  him  in  con 
demning  the  stamp  act,  and  in  determination  to  secure  its  repeal,  yet  he 
possessed  the  first  requisite  of  popular  leadership,  in  his  ability  to  remain 
cool  in  the  face  of  provocation ;  to  weigh  the  justice  and  advisability  of 
actions,  to  withstand  the  clamor  of  the  popular  voice,  to  look  beyond  imme 
diate  to  remote  results,  and  to  calmly  determine  his  course  with  a  view  to 
its  furthest  and  least  obvious  effects.  He  was  not  free  from  anxiety  lest 
there  might  be  some  connection  between  his  Braintree  resolutions  and  the 
unlawful  acts  of  the  people;  he  was  solicitous  for  the  cause;  anxious  to 
avoid  its  injury,  either  by  weak  inaction  or  ill-judged  zeal;  yet,  while  he  con 
demned  the  manifestation  of  the  latter,  he  could  not  but  recognize  it  as 


THE    BRAIXTREE    RESOLUTIONS.  28$ 

springing  from  a  new  born  determination  of  the  people,  in  itself  of  the  great 
est  value. 

There  was,  in  fact,  never  more  than  a  shadow  of  royal  authority  in 
Boston,  from  the  day  of  the  appointment  of  an  agent  to  distribute  the 
obnoxious  stamps.  Several  of  the  participants  in  the  riots  were  arrested 
and  placed  in  jail,  but  the  people  compelled  the  surrender  of  the  keys, 
opened  the  doors,  and  set  them  at  liberty.  On  the  2Oth  of  September, 
1765,  arrived  a  vessel,  bearing  the  stamps  for  the  New  England  colonies. 
Oliver  having  resigned,  there  was  no  one  in  Boston  possessing  either  author 
ity  or  temerity  to  land  and  unpack  them.  On  the  25th  the  general  court 
was  convened,  with  a  speech  from  his  excellency,  which  might  stand  as  a 
monument  to  bad  judgment.  Professing  to  be  conciliatory,  it  was,  in  fact, 
menacing,  and  menacing,  too,  in  a  querulous,  rather  than  a  dignified,  tone. 
He  relied  for  the  removal  of  the  popular  opposition,  and  that  of  the  court, 
principally  upon  his  statement  that  a  refusal  to  use  the  stamps  must  react 
severely  upon  the  province,  by  compelling  the  closing  of  the  custom-house, 
courts  of  law,  and  the  general  interruption  of  every  form  of  business  involv 
ing  the  passage  of  contracts  and  indentures.  He  closed  by  asking:  "In 
short,  can  this  province  bear  a  cessation  of  law  and  justice,  and  of  trade  and 
navigation,  at  a  time  when  the  business  of  the  vear  is  to  be  wound  up,  and 

o  » 

the  severe  season  is  hastily  approaching?  These,"  he  added,  "are  serious 
and  alarming  questions,  which  demand  a  cool  and  dispassionate  considera 
tion." 

The  governor  had  sadly  mistaken  the  spirit  of  the  men  with  whom  he 
had  to  deal.  They  were  not  to  be  conciliated  by  the  chaff  of  his  promises, 
or  to  be  moved  by  the  sophistry  of  his  flimsy  arguments.  Even  the 
suggestion  that,  in  the  event  of  their  being  convinced  of  the  propriety  of 
submitting  to  the  enforcement  of  the  stamp  act,  a  recess  should  be  granted, 
to  permit  them  to  go  to  their  homes,  and  bring  their  constituents  to  the 
same  happy  state  of  humility,  met  with  more  ridicule  than  respect.  The 
formal  speech  was  supplemented  by  a  message  announcing  the  arrival  of 
the  stamps,  and  asking  advice  what  should  be  done  with  them.  To  tin's, 
a  prompt  answer  was  returned  by  both  houses,  that,  as  the  stamps  had 
been  brought  into  the  colony  without  their  consent,  they  did  not  feel  called 
upon  to  give  any  aid  or  assistance  in  the  matter. 

In  the  early  stages  of  the  discussion,  James  Otis  had  published  a  pam 
phlet,  in  which  he  explicitly  admitted  the  right  of  parliament  to  pass  laws 
binding  upon  the  colonies,  and  made  an  argument  specifically  against  the 
stamp  act,  upon  special  grounds.  The  colonial  assembly  had  as  explicitly 
recognized  the  same  right.  Very  many  of  the  best  thinkers  of  the  colonies 
disagreed  with  this  view  of  the  case,  and  held  that  the  opposition  should  be 
so  directed  as  to  strike,  not  the  stamp  act  alone,  but  the  fundamental  error 
upon  which  it  was  based,  so  that  success  might  n  t  mean  merely  a  tempo- 


286  JOHN    ADAMS. 

rary  relief,  with  the  possibility  of  meeting  in  the  future  enactments  quite  as 
obnoxious  and  more  carefully  considered.  Among  those  who  so  thought 
were  Samuel  Adams,  newly  elected  a  member  of  the  assembly,  and  John 
Adams,  whose  authorship  of  the  Braintree  resolutions  had  given  his 
opinions  a  certain  weight.  During  the  session  of  the  assembly,  to  which 
reference  has  been  made,  Otis  was  absent,  attending  the  convention  at  New 
York.  Samuel  Adams  took  the  occasion  to  draw,  and  introduce  in  the 
assembly,  a  preamble  and  fourteen  resolutions,  which  completely  changed 
the  aspect  of  the  struggle.  He  went  to  the  root  of  the  matter  ;  denied 
the  right  of  parliament  to  tax  the  colonies  ;  asserted  that  taxation  and  rep 
resentation  are  correlative,  and  that  representation  of  the  colonies  in  parlia 
ment  was  necessarily  impossible.  The  last  resolution  contained  a  declara 
tion  of  respect  and  loyalty  to  the  king,  which,  like  the  wings  of  a  griffin, 
was  conventional  if  not  useful. 

These  resolutions  were  adopted  on  the  3Oth  of  October,  and  on 
November  1st  the  stamp  act  ostensibly  went  into  force.  An  attempt  was 
made  to  secure  the  adoption  of  a  resolution  in  the  house,  that  it  was  neces 
sary  to  proceed  with  the  business  of  the  courts  and  the  custom  house  with 
out  stamps ;  this,  Hutchinson  succeeded  in  defeating,  and,  finding  that  the 
assembly  became  daily  more  bold  and  defiant,  he  prorogued  it  on  the  8th 
of  November  until  the  I5th  of  January.  The  opinions  of  Mr.  Adams 
regarding  the  all-absorbing  question  of  the  time  cannot  be  better  conveyed 
than  by  quotation  from  his  diary.  On  the  i8th  of  December,  he  wrote: 

' '  That  enormous  engine,  fabricated  by  the  British  parliament,  for  bat 
tering  down  all  the  rights  and  liberties  of  America,  I  mean  the  stamp  act, 
has  raised  and  spread  through  the  whole  continent  a  spirit  that  will  be 
recorded  to  our  honor  with  all  future  generations.  In  every  colony,  from 
Georgia  to  New  Hampshire  inclusively,  the  stamp  distributors  and  inspec 
tors  have  been  compelled,  by  the  unconquerable  rage  of  the  people,  to 
renounce  their  offices.  Such  and  so  universal  has  been  the  resentment  of 
the  people,  that  every  man  who  has  dared  to  speak  in  favor  of  the  stamps, 
or  to  soften  the  detestation  in  which  they  are  held,  how  great  soever  his  abili 
ties  and  virtues  had  been  esteemed  before,  or  whatever  his  fortune,  connec 
tions,  or  influence  had  been,  has  been  seen  to  sink  into  universal  contempt 
and  ignominy.  The  people,  even  to  the  lowest  ranks,  have  become  more 
attentive  to  their  liberties,  more  inquisitive  about  them,  and  more  deter 
mined  to  defend  them,  than  they  were  ever  before  known,  or  had  occasion 
to  be;  innumerable  have  been  the  monuments  of  wit,  humor,  sense,  learn 
ing,  spirit,  patriotism,  and  heroism,  erected  in  the  several  colonies  and  prov 
inces,  in  the  course  of  this  year.  Our  presses  have  groaned,  our  pulpits 
have  labored,  our  legislatures  have  resolved,  our  towns  have  voted;  the 
crown  officers  have  everywhere  trembled,  and  all  their  little  tools  and  crea 
tures  been  afraid  to  speak  and  ashamed  to  be  seen. 


THE    BRAINTREE    RESOLUTIONS.  287 

"This  spirit,  however,  has  not  yet  been  sufficient  to  banish  from  persons 
in  authority  that  timidity  which  they  have  discovered  from  the  beginning 
The  executive  courts  have  not  yet  dared  to  adjudge  the  stamp  act  void,  nor 
to  proceed  with  business  as  usual,  though  it  would  seem  that  necessity  alone 
should  be  sufficient  to  justify  business  at  present,  though  the  act  should  be 
allowed  to  be  obligatory.  The  stamps  are  in  the  castle.  Mr.  Oliver  has  no 
commission.  The  governor  has  no  authority  to  distribute,  or  even  unpack 
the  bales  ;  the  act  has  never  been  proclaimed,  nor  read  in  the  province  ;  -yet 
the  probate  office  is  shut,  the  custom  house  is  shut,  the  courts  of  justice 
are  shut,  and  all  business  seems  at  a  stand.  Yesterday  and  the  day  before, 
the  two  last  days  of  service  for  January  term,  only  one  man  asked  me  for  a 
writ,  and  he  was  soon  determined  to  waive  his  request.  I  have  not  drawn  a 
writ  since  the  first  of  November.  How  long  we  are  to  remain  in  this  condi 
tion,  this  passive  obedience  to  the  stamp  act,  is  not  certain,  but  such  a 
pause  cannot  be  lasting.  Debtors  grow  insolent,  creditors  grow  angry,  and 
it  is  to  be  expected  that  the  public  offices  will  very  soon  be  forced  open, 
unless  such  favorable  accounts  should  be  received  from  England  as  to  draw 
away  the  fears  of  the  great,  or  unless  a  greater  dread  of  the  multitude 
should  drive  away  fear  of  censure  from  Great  Britain. 

"  It  is  my  opinion  that  by  this  inactivity  we  discover  cowardice,  and 
too  much  respect  to  the  act.  This  rest  appears  to  be,  by  implication  at  least, 
an  acknowledgment  of  the  authority  of  parliament  to  tax  us.  If  this 
authority  is  once  acknowledged  and  established,  the  ruin  of  America  will 
become  inevitable.  This  long  interval  of  indolence  and  idleness  will  make 
a  large  chasm  in  my  affairs,  if  it  should  not  reduce  me  to  distress,  and  inca 
pacitate  me  to  answer  the  demands  upon  me.  But  I  must  endeavor  in  some 
degree  to  compensate  the  disadvantage,  by  posting  my  books,  reducing  my 
accounts  into  better  order,  and  diminishing  my  expenses, — but,  above  all, 
by  improving  the  leisure  of  this  winter  in  a  diligent  application  to  my  studies. 
The  bar  seems  to  me  to  behave  like  a  flock  of  shot  pigeons; 
the\'  seem  to  be  stopped;  the  net  seems  to  be  thrown  over  them,  and  they 
have  scarcely  courage  left  to  flounce,  and  to  flutter.  So  sudden  an  interrup 
tion  in  my  career  is  very  unfortunate  for  me.  I  was  just  getting  into  my 
gears;  just  getting  under  sail  and  an  embargo  is  laid  upon  my  ship.  Thirty 
years  of  my  life  are  passed  in  preparation  for  business  ;  I  have  had  poverty 
to  struggle  with  ;  envy,  jealous)' and  malice  of  enemies  to  encounter;  no 
friends,  or  but  few,  to  assist  me;  so  that  I  have  passed  in  dark  obscurity, 
till  of  late,  and  had  but  just  become  known,  and  gained  a  small  degree  of 
reputation,  when  this  execrable  project  was  set  on  foot,  to  my  ruin,  as  well 
as  that  of  America  in  ijeneral,  and  of  Great  Britain." 


288  JOHN    ADAMS. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ANTI-STAMP  ARGUMENTS  AND  MEASURES-THE  "BOSTON  MASSACRE." 

ON  the  very  day  when  was  made  the  long  journal  entry,  quoted  at  the 
close  of  the  last  chapter,  a  town  meeting  was  held  in  Boston,  at 
which  it  was  determined  that  a  memorial  be  presented  to  the  governor  and 
council,  protesting  against  the  closing  of  the  courts  as  a  denial  of  justice, 
and  demanding  that  they  be  at  once  re-opened.  Mr.  Samuel  Adams  drew 
the  memorial ;  to  it  was  added  a  request  that  the  town  of  Boston  might  be 
heard  by  counsel  upon  the  matter.  The  memorial  was  forthwith  forwarded, 
and  the  request  for  a  hearing  at  once  granted.  On  the  day  following  John 
Adams  received.,  at  his  home  at  Braintree,  the  following  letter: 

"  SIR:  I  am  directed,  by  the  town,  to  notify  you  that  they  have  this 
day  voted  unanimously  that  Jeremiah  Gridley,  James  Otis,  and  John  Adams, 
esquires,  be  applied  to  as  counsel  to  appear  before  his  excellency  the  gov 
ernor,  in  council,  in  support  of  their  memorial,  praying  that  the  courts  of 
law  in  this  province  may  be  opened.  A  copy  of  said  memorial  will  be 
handed  you,  upon  your  coming  to  town. 

"I  am,  sir,  your  most  obedient,  humble  servant, 

WILLIAM  COOPER, 

"John  Adams,  Esq.  Town  Clerk. 

''Boston,  December  18,   1765." 

The  selection  of  so  young  a  man,  and  one  not  a  resident  of  the  town, 
was  an  honor  of  which  Mr.  Adams  might  well  feel  proud  ;  proud  he  was, 
and  very  much  surprised,  but  he  did  not  give  himself  very  much  time  for 
self-gratulation  or  conjecture,  going,  at  once,  as  always,  to  the  root  of  the 
matter,  and  questioning  of  himself  how  he  might  best  perform  this  unex 
pected  duty.  His  journal  of  the  iQth  says,  after  quoting  the  letter  referred 
to:  'The  reason  which  induced  Boston  to  choose  me,  at  a  distance  and 
unknown  as  I  am,  the  particular  persons  concerned,  and  measures  concerted 
to  bring  this  about,  I  am  wholly  at  a  loss  to  conjecture,  as  1  am  what  the 


ANTI-STAMP    ARGUMENTS    AND    MEASURES.  289 

future  effects  and  consequences  will  be,  both  with  regard  to  myself  and  the 
public.  But,  when  I  recollect  my  own  reflections  and  speculations  yester 
day,  a  part  of  which  were  committed  to  writing  last  night,  and  may  be  seen 
under  December  i8th,  and  compare  them  with  the  proceedings  of  Boston 
yesterday,  of  which  the  foregoing  letter  informed  me,  I  cannot  but  wonder 
and  call  to  mind  my  Lord  Bacon's  observation  about  secret  inexorable 
laws  of  nature,  and  communications  and  influence,  between  places,  that  are 
not  discoverable  by  sense.  But  I  am  now  under  all  obligations  of  interest 
and  ambition,  as  well  as  honor,  gratitude,  and  duty,  to  exert  the  utmost  of 
my  abilities  in  this  important  cause.  How  shall  it  be  conducted;  shall  we 
contend  that  the  stamp  act  is  void — that  the  parliament  has  no  authority 
to  impose  internal  taxes  upon  us,  because  we  are  not  represented  in  it,  and, 
therefore,  that  the  stamp  act  ought  to  be  waived,  by  the  judges,  as  against 
natural  equity  and  the  constitution  ?  Shall  we  use  these  as  arguments  for 
opening  the  courts  of  law?  or  shall  we  ground  ourselves  on  necessity  only?" 
On  Friday,  the  2Oth  of  December,  Mr.  Adams  went  to  Boston  and,  in 
company  with  his  associates  in  the  matter,  spent  the  whole  day  in  attend 
ance  before  the  committee  of  the  town  and  a  large  number  of  citizens. 
During  this  meeting  Adams  stated  quite  freely  his  views  of  the  matter. 
After  the  candles  had  been  lighted,  came  a  message  from  the  governor,  that 
he  was  in  session  with  his  council,  and  would  hear  the  argument  of  the 
issues  arising  under  the  memorial,  but  that  no  persons  save  the  counsel  for 
the  town  should  be  permitted  to  attend.  Having  reached  the  chamber  the 
governor  recommended  that  the  counsel  should  divide  their  argument 
among  them  by  topics,  thus  avoiding  repetition.  Gridley  was  attorney- 
general  of  the  crown;  Otis  had  committed  himself,  in  the  pamphlet  referred 
to,  to  a  narrow  line  of  defense — neither  desired  to  assail  the  stamp  act  as 
unconstitutional  and  void.  Hence  to  Adams  fell  the  lot  of  making  the  only 
points  against  the  act  which  could  have  justified  the  governor  in  ignoring  ite 
As  junior  counsel,  he  made  the  opening  argument  and  that,  too,  upon  a 
question  which  had  never  before  been  raised  in  any  court,  and  entirely  with 
out  special  preparation.  His  argument  went  to  the  root  of  the  matter; 
beginning  with  the  assumption  that  the  stamp  act  was  not  in  any  sense  the 
act  of  the  memorialists,  they  having  never  consented  to  it,  he  proceeded  to 
demonstrate  the  necessary  correlation  of  taxation  with  representation. 
Then,  descending  from  the  general  to  the  specific,  he  urged  the  absence  of 
any  officer  commissioned  to  distribute  the  stamps  and  the  consequent 
impossibility  of  enforcing  the  law,  as  sufficient  excuse  for  opening  the  courts 
to  prevent  a  denial  of  justice.  Mr.  Otis  discussed  the  enforced  infraction  of 
the  judges'  oaths,  and  Mr.  Gridley  confined  his  argument  to  the  immediate 
damage  and  inconveniences  caused  by  the  closing  of  the  courts.  The  gov 
ernor  refused  to  entertain  the  memorial  or  to  go  into  its  merits,  holding  that, 
while  the  arguments  were  many  of  them  very  good  ones,  the  application 


290  JOHN    ADAMS. 

could  only  properly  lie  to  the  court  of  law  ;  that  the  determination  of  such  a 
question  by  the  governor  and  council  of  a  province,  would  be  unprecedented 
and  would  lay  the  former  open  to  the  charge  of  arrogating  to  himself  powers 
which  he  did  not  possess.  This  answer  was  but  an  evasion,  and  Bernard's 
course  throughout  was  evidently  disingenuous.  If  he  did  not  possess 
authority  in  the  mattter  of  the  memorial,  he  must  have  known  it  before 
consenting  to  hear  counsel,  and  his  action  bears  the  appearance  of  having 
been  dictated  by  a  desire  to  know  the  attitude  which  the  town  would  take 
toward  the  question.  His  decision,  that  an  application  to  open  the  courts 
must  be  made  to  those  courts,  though  closed,  calls  for  no  comment. 
Upon  the  question  of  damage  and  inconvenience,  arising  from  the  stoppage 
of  the  legal  machinery  of  the  colony,  he  may  justly  have  held  that,  as 
Oliver's  enforced  resignation  of  his  office  was  the  act  of  the  people,  the 
people  must  suffer  the  consequences. 

On  the  day  following  the  argument  before  the  governor,  Adams 
was  requested  to  attend  a  meeting  of  the  committee  of  the  town,  called 
for  that  day.  He  was,  consequently,  present.  The  counsel  reported 
the  result  of  the  argument,  including  the  recommendation  of  the  gov 
ernor  that  the  judges  should  take  upon  themselves  the  decision  of  the 
question.  The  meeting  received  the  report,  then  voted  unanimously  that 
the  reply  of  the  governor  was  not  satisfactory.  The  counsel  were  called  on 
in  turn  to  express  their  opinion  in  the  premises.  There  was  the  inevitable 
difference  among  them  as  to  the  course  most  advisable  to  be  adopted,  but 
all  were  united  in  the  opinion  that  the  proposed  application  to  the  judges 
would  be  alike  ineffectual  and  injudicious,  while  the  balance  of  opinion 
seemed  to  favor  postponing  the  matter  for  the  time,  at  least,  and,  with  this, 
the  meeting  adjourned. 

It  is  impossible  to  further  follow  the  history  of  the  anti-stamp  agitation. 
Every  effort  to  obtain  redress  failing,  the  law  was  openly  defied,  by  the 
courts  of  the  colony,  by  individual  citizens,  and  even  in  the  custom  houses; 
the  stamps  grew  moldy  in  the  store-houses,  the  authority  of  the  crown  and 
parliament  was  scouted,  and,  at  last,  an  ignominious  repeal  of  the  act  put  a 
period  to  the  agitation.  The  repeal  of  the  stamp  act  lacked  but  one  ele 
ment  of  wisdom.  Had  it  been  an  unconditional  retreat  from  the  position 
of  the  British  administration,  there  would  have  been  an  end  of  all  trouble 
in  the  matter.  As  it  was,  the  act  of  repeal  strongly  reaffirmed  the  right 
of  taxation,  though  it  removed  an  obnoxious  law.  The  people  were,  how 
ever,  in  no  mood  for  hair-splitting,  and  were  ready  enough  to  accept  and 
rejoice  in  their  victory,  though  they  reserved  to  themselves  the  right  to 
oppose,  with  vigor,  any  effort  to  enforce  the  right  assumed  by  the  crown. 
As  no  such  occasion  came  at  once,  the  years  immediately  following  the 
repeal  were  quiet  and  tranquil.  Business  fell  again  into  its  old  routine, 
commerce  thrived,  the  courts  moved  smoothly,  and  a  casual  observer  might 


SAMl'KL    ADAMS. 


ANTI-STAMP   ARGUMENTS   AND    MEASURES.  2QI 

well  have  failed  to  recognize  the  truth  that  the  bonds  which  united  the 
colonies  to  Great  Britain  had  been  so  rudely  strained  and  stretched  that 
their  parting  was  a  certainty,  and  one,  too,  not  remote. 

Adams  accepted,  with  thankfulness,  the  opportunity  thus  given  for 
returning  to  the  practice  of  his  profession.  The  stoppage  of  the  courts  had 
caused  a  considerable  accumulation  of  business.  His  retainer  by  the  town 
of  Boston  had  greatly  added  to  a  reputation  already  reasonably  well  estab 
lished,  and  he  reaped  his  full  share  of  the  harvest  of  fees  which  came  to  the 
impoverished  bar  of  the  province.  From  the  year  1766  onward,  until  pub 
lic  events  again  called  him  to  the  service  of  the  province,  his  course  was  one 
of  steady  and  increasing  prosperity.  In  the  spring  of  1768  he  removed  his 
residence  from  Braintree  to  Boston.  He  had,  in  fact,  quite  outgrown  the 
little  rural  arena  in  which  he  had  fought  his  maiden  battle.  His  businesr 
had  grown  to  be  large,  and  of  an  important  class,  and  more  and  more,  day 
by  day,  had  centered  in  the  capital  of  the  province.  He  had  already 
attained  a  position  of  leadership  in  Braintree,  being  a  selectman  of  the 
town,  and  much  consulted  on  ever}'  local  question.  His  departure  from  the 
town,  and  the  consequent  resignation  of  his  office,  were  sincerely  regretted  by 
his  fellow  citizens,  and  there  were  not  lacking  those  who  considered  that  he 
had  foolishly  surrendered  the  brightest  political  prospects.  Of  his  life, 
during  the  year  1768,  he  gives  this  vivid  picture  in  his  diary  : 

"To  what  object  are  my  views  directed?  What  is  the  end  and  purpose 
of  my  studies,  journeys,  labors,  of  all  kinds,  of  body  and  mind,  of  tongue 
and  pen.  Am  I  grasping  at  money,  or  scheming  for  power?  Am  I  plan 
ning  the  illustration  of  my  family,  or  the  welfare  of  my  country?  These 
are  great  questions.  In  truth,  I  am  tossed  about  so  much,  from  post  to 
pillar,  that  I  have  not  leisure  and  tranquility  enough  to  consider  distinctly 
my  own  views,  objects,  and  feelings I  am  certain,  how 
ever,  that  the  course  I  pursue  will  neither  lead  me  to  fame,  fortune,  power, 
nor  to  the  service  of  my  friends,  clients,  or  country.  What  plan  of  read 
ing,  reflection,  or  business  can  be  pursued  by  a  mar.  who  is  now  at  Pownal- 
borough,  then  at  Martha's  Vineyard,  next  at  Boston,  then  at  Taunton, 
presently  at  Barnstable,  then  at  Concord,  now  at  Salem,  then  at  Cambridge, 
And  afterwards  at  Worcester?  Now  at  sessions,  then  at  pleas,  now  in 
admiralty,  now  at  supreme  court,  then  in  the  gallery  of  the  House  ?  What 
a  dissipation  must  this  be  !  Is  it  possible  to  pursue  a  regular  course  of 
thinking  in  this  desultory  life  ?  By  no  means.  It  is  a  life  of  "  here  and 
everywhere;" — to  use  the  expression  that  is  applied  to  Othello  by  Descle- 
mona's  father,  a  rambling,  roaming,  vagrant,  vagabond  life;  a  wandering 
life.  At  Mein's  book  store,  at  Bowe's  shop,  at  Dana's  house,  at  Fitch's, 
Otis'  office,  and  the  clerk's  office,  in  the  court  chamber,  in  the  gallery,  at 
tny  own  fire,  I  am  thinking  on  the  same  plan. 

Scarcely  was  Mr.  Adams  settled  in  Boston,  before  came  overtures  from 


292  JOHN    ADAMS. 

the  government  party  to  gain  his  service,  if  not  his  sympathy.  Mr. 
Jonathan  Sewall  still  continued  in  warm  and  intimate  friendship  with  him, 
though  the  questions  of  the  past  few  years  had  drifted  them,  politically, 
very  far  apart.  Coming  to  his  house  one  day,  Sewall  announced  his 
intention  of  remaining  to  dine  with  him,  and,  after  the  meal  was  over,  firct 
secured  the  privacy  of  their  conversation,  then  conveyed  to  him  the  desire 
of  Governor  Bernard,  that  he  should  accept  the  vacant  post  of  advocate 
general  in  the  court  of  admiralty.  The  offer  was  accompanied  by  an  intima 
tion  that  his  political  opinions  had  been  taken  into  account,  and  that  h:s 
acceptance  of  the  proffered  position  would  not  be  regarded  as  in  any  sens* 
a  compromise  of  them.  The  offer  was  a  very  flattering  one ;  its  acceptance 
promised  honor  and  emolument,  yet  he  declined  it.  His  reasons ;  and  hi<* 
manner  of  so  doing  are  stated  in  his  autobiography:  "  My  answer  to  Mr, 
Sewall  was  very  prompt :  That  I  was  sensible  of  the  honor  done  me  b\ 
the  Governor ;  but  must  be  excused  from  accepting  his  offer.  Mr.  SewaU 
enquired,  Why;  what  was  my  objection?  I  answered  that  he  knew  very 
well  my  political  principles,  the  system  I  had  adopted,  and  the  connection* 
and  friendships  I  had  formed  in  consequence  of  them.  He  also  knew  tha* 
the  British  government,  including  the  king,  his  ministers,  and  parliament, 
apparently  supported  by  a  great  majority  of  the  nation,  were  persevering 
in  a  system  wholly  inconsistent  with  all  my  ideas  of  right,  justice,  and  policy- 
and  therefore  I  could  not  place  myself  in  a  situation  in  which  my  duty  and 
my  inclination  would  be  so  much  at  variance.  To  this  Mr.  Sewall  returned 
that  he  was  instructed  by  the  Governor  to  say  that  he  knew  my  political 
sentiments  very  well,  but  they  should  be  no  objection  to  him.  I  should 
be  at  full  liberty  to  entertain  my  own  opinions,  which  he  did  not  wish  to 
influence  by  this  office.  He  had  offered  it  to  me  merely  because  he  believed 
I  was  best  qualified  for  it,  and  because  he  relied  on  my  integrity.  I 
replied  that  this  was  going  as  far  in  the  generosity  and  liberality  of  his  senti' 
ments  as  the  Governor  could  go,  or  as  I  could  desire,  if  I  could  accept 
the  office  ;  but  that  I  knew  it  would  lay  me  under  restraints  and  obligations 
that  I  could  not  submit  to,  and,  therefore,  I  could  not,  in  honor  or  coiv 
science,  accept  it.  Mr.  Sewall  paused,  and  then,  resuming  the  subject, 
asked:  'Why  are  you  so  quick  and  sudden  in  your  determination?  You 
had  better  take  it  under  consideration,  and  give  me  your  answer  at  some 
future  day.'  I  told  him  my  answer  had  been  ready  because  my  mind  was 
clear  and  my  determination  decided  and  unalterable ;  that  my  advice  would 
be  that  Mr.  Fitch  should  be  appointed,  to  whose  views  the  office  would 
be  perfectly  agreeable.  Mr.  Sewall  said  he  should  certainly  give  me  time 
to  think  of  it.  I  said  that  time  would  produce  no  change,  and  he  had 
better  make  his  report  immediately.  We  parted,  and  about  three  weeks 
afterwards  he  came  to  me  again,  and  hoped  I  had  thought  more  favorably 
on  the  subject;  that  the  Governor  had  sent  for  him,  and  told  him  the  public 


ANTI-STAMP    ARGUMENTS    AND    MEASURES. 


293 


business  suffered,  and  the  office  must  be  filled.  I  told  him  my  judgment, 
and  inclination,  and  determination  were  unalterably  fixed,  and  that  I  had 
hoped  Mr.  Fitch  would  be  appointed  before  that  time.  Mr.  Fitch,  however, 
never  was  appointed.  He  acted  for  the  crown  by  the  appointment  of  the 
judge,  from  day  to  day,  but  had  never  any  commission  from  the  crown,  or 
appointment  of  the  Governor." 

The  relinquishment  of  so  fair  a  chance  of  advancement  is  an  illustra 
tion  of  the  strict  moral  consistency  of  Mr.  Adams,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
proves  beyond  question,  that  he  saw  in  the  temporary  tranquility  of  the 
province,  only  a  lull  in  the  storm ;  that  he  looked  for  a  renewal  of  the  active 
discontent  which  the  repeal  of  the  stamp  act  had,  for  the  time,  stilled ;  and 
saw  how  inevitably  would  he  be  compelled  either  to  surrender  the  office 
offered  him,  or  to  give  to  the  king  only  a  lip  service,  his  heart  going  with 
the  cause  of  the  king's  discontented,  perhaps  even  rebellious,  subjects. 
This  fortunate  prevision  kept  him  free  from  entanglements,  and  free  from 
even  the  suspicion  of  having  compromised  his  principles  for  place  and 
money,  and  thus  preserved  him  for  the  highest  service  of  his  province  in  the 
doubtful  struggle  which  was,  in  fact,  very  near  at  hand. 

Almost  immediately  after  Mr.  Adams'  settlement  in  Boston,  he  set  out 
to  attend  court  at  Worcester,  Springfield,  and  some  other  towns  throughout 
the  province,  and  during  his  absence  occurred  three  of  the  most  important 
events  preliminary  to  the  revolution,  any  one  of  which  would  have  suf 
ficiently  vindicated  the  wisdom  of  his  refusal  to  accept  office  at  the  hands  of 
the  crown.  These  were  the  holding  of  the  Boston  convention,  the  arrival 
of  the  royal  commissioners  of  customs,  and  the  landing  of  the  British  sol 
diers, — ostensibly  a  protective  garrison,  in  reality  an  army  of  occupation. 
Governor  Bernard  had  dissolved  the  general  court,  and  refused  to  call  a  new 
session  of  the  Legislature  ;  the  troops  were  quartered  within  the  town,  and 
the  cost  of  their  maintenance  was  to  be  enforced  as  a  charge  against  the 
people  of  Boston.  The  arrival  of  the  army  was  the  first  cast  of  the 
administration  in  the  new  game  for  the  subduing  of  the  recalcitrant  colony. 
Legislative  imposition  had  been  contemptuously  cast  off;  it  was  evident  that 
the  dread  of  British  power,  as  an  abstraction,  had  not  sufficient  weight  to 
insure  respect  for  the  laws  of  parliament  and  the  policy  of  ministries;  that 
power  must  be  materialized; — and  so  there  came  the  gleam  of  white  sails  in 
the  offing,  guns  frowned  along  the  grim  flanks  of  a  fleet  not  from,  but  toward, 
the  little  city,  and  there  marched  through  its  streets,  seven  hundred  red- 
coated  incarnations  of  royal  power,  while  the  inhabitants  were  told  that  more 
were  yet  to  follow.  In  this  predicament — the  general  court  dissolved,  the 
Governor  an  enemy,  and  the  chief  justice  little  less — the  town  of  Boston 
held  a  public  meeting  on  the  I2th  and  I3th  of  September,  at  which  it  was 
resolved  that  the  king,  in  time  of  peace,  had  no  right  to  station  troops  within 
the  colony,  without  an  expressed  and  official  request  so  to  do.  On  the 


294  JOHN    ADAMS. 

I4th,  a  circular  was  addressed  to  the  selectmen  of  other  towns  within  the 
province,  requesting  them  to  send  delegates  to  a  convention  to  be  held  in 
Boston  on  the  22nd.  The  reasons  assigned  for  holding  this  convention  were 
those  obviously  suggested  by  the  presence  of  the  army,  and,  very  unwisely, 
the  evidently  false  one  of  "prospect  of  a  war  with  France."  This  ostrich- 
like  effort  to  conceal  the  aim  of  the  selectmen,  by  hiding  the  head,  while 
the  body  remained  exposed,  laid  a  very  just,  dignified  and  respectable  move 
ment  open  to  unmerited  contempt,  and  very  considerably  detracted  from  its 
weight.  In  spite,  however,  of  this  mistake,  and  of  the  short  notice  given, 
more  than  one  hundred  towns  were  represented  in  the  convention.  The 
proceedings  were  mainly  in  the  nature  of  protests  against  the  military 
occupation  and  the  billeting  act;  the  convention  expressly  disavowed  the 
possession  of  legislative  powers,  and  its  importance  was  principally  in  the 
indication  it  gave  of  a  determination  on  the  part  of  the  people  to  protect 
their  rights  to  extremities. 

The  arrival  of  the  soldiers  aroused  the  people  to  fury;  they  refused  to 
provide  for  the  accommodation  of  the  troops,  and  demanded  that  they  be 
quartered  at  the  castle,  without  the  city  proper;  this  request  might  have 
been  granted,  but  for  the  meeting  of  the  convention,  which  the  Governor 
and  General  Gage  chose  to  regard  as  so  nearly  approaching  an  act  of 
treason,  as  to  absolve  them  from  considering  the  feelings  of  the  people. 
Hence,  Faneuil  hall  and  other  public  buildings  \vere  converted  into  bar 
racks,  pending  an  effort  to  enforce  the  billeting  act,  and,  this  quite  failing, 
it  eventually  became  necessary  to  hire  houses  for  the  purpose.  Even  this 
was  only  accomplished  with  great  difficulty,  and  at  exorbitant  cost. 

There  were  not  lacking  persons  ready  enough  to  inflame  the  people 
against  the  soldiers ;  the  latter  could  not  go  abroad  singly  or  in  small  parties 
without  being  taunted,  insulted,  and  sometimes  assailed  by  mobs  of  citizens 
"of  the  baser  sort,"  and  so  the  rancor  and  hatred  of  the  people  were 
returned  most  heartily  by  the  troops.  Finally,  on  the  night  of  the  5th  of 
March,  1770,  a  crowd  larger  than  usual  being  upon  the  streets,  a  sentry, 
on  guard,  was  insulted  by  a  passer-by ;  a  brawl  ensued;  a  corporal's  guard 
came  to  the  assistance  of  the  imperiled  soldier,  and,  gathering  about 
him,  faced  the  citizens,  not  more  than  twenty-five  or  thirty  of  whom  were 
gathered.  The  latter  proceeded  from  abuse  to  violence,  hurling  clubs, 
stones,  and  other  missiles,  at  the  red-coats,  until  the  position  of  the  latter 
became  really  perilous  ;  then  the  guard — some  say  of  their  own  accord,  and 
others  under  the  orders  of  their  commander,  Captain  Preston — fired  upon 
the  crowd,  killing  five  of  the  bystanders,  more  or  less  active  participants  in 
the  riot.  The  people  were  aroused  to  the  point  of  madness  by  this  occur 
rence.  The  British  commander  drew  in  his  force  to  a  defensible  part  of  the 
town,  planted  cannon  to  sweep  the  streets,  and  only  by  these  precautions 
were  prevented  general  riot  and  fearful  bloodshed,  which  seemed  inevitable. 


DEFENSE    OF    THE    SOLDIERS. 


CHAPTER    V. 

DEFENSE     OF    THE    SOLDIERS-ELECTED     TO     THE    ASSEMBLY     CONTROVERSY    WITH 

BOWDOIN. 

WHEN  had  passed  the  first  excitement  aroused  by  the  "Boston 
massacre,"  came  the  demand  for  the  trial  of  the  captain  and 
soldiers  who  had  been  engaged  in  the  affair.  All  surrendered  themselves, 
and  were  promptly  indicted  for  murder.  At  this  point  began  Adams'  con 
nection  with  the  case,  best  told  in  the  language  of  his  autobiography.  "The 
next  morning,  I  think  it  was,  sitting  in  my  office  near  the  steps  of  the  town- 
house  stairs,  Mr.  Eorrest  came  in,  who  was  then  called  the  'Irish  infant.' 
I  had  some  acquaintance  with  him.  With  tears  streaming  from  his  eyes, 
he  said,  '  I  am  come  with  a  very  solemn  message  from  a  very  unfortunate 
man, — Captain  Preston, — in  prison.  He  wishes  for  counsel,  and  can  get 
none.  I  have  waited  on  Mr.  Ouincy,  who  says  he  will  engage  if  you  will 
give  him  your  assistance  ;  without  it,  he  positively  will  not.  Even  Mr. 
Auchmuty  declines,  unless  you  will  engage.'  I  had  no  hesitation  in  answer 
ing  that  counsel  ought  to  be  the  very  last  thing  t-hat  an  accused  person 
should  want,  in  a  free  country  ;  that  the  bar  ought,  in  my  opinion,  to  be 
independent  and  impartial,  at  all  times  and  in  ever)*  circumstance,  and  that 
persons  whose  lives  were  at  stake  ought  to  have  the  counsel  they  preferred. 
But  he  must  be  sensible  this  would  be  as  important  a  cause  as  was  ever 
tried  in  any  court  or  country  of  the  world,  and  that  every  lawyer  must  hold 
himself  responsible,  not  only  to  his  country,  but  to  the  highest  and  most 
infallible  of  all  tribunals,  for  the  part  he  should  act.  Pie  must,  therefore, 
expect  from  me  no  art  or  address,  no  sophistry  or  prevarication,  in  such  a 
cause,  nor  anything  more  than  fact,  evidence,  and  law  would  justify. 
'Captain  Preston,'  he  said,  'requested  and  desired  no  more;  and  that  he 
had  such  an  opinion,  from  all  he  had  heard  from  all  parties,  of  me,  that  he 
could  cheerfully  trust  his  life  with  me,  upon  those  principles.  And,'  said 
Forrest,  'as  God  Almighty  is  my  judge,  I  believe  him  an  innocent,  man.' 
I  replied:  That  must  be  ascertained  by  his  trial,  and,  if  he  believes  he  can- 


296  JOHN  ADAM:J. 

not  have  a  fair  trial  of  that  issue  without  my  assistance,  without  hesitation 
he  shall  have  it. 

"Upon  this  Forrest  offered  me  a  single  guinea  as  a  retaining  fee,  and  I 
readily  accepted  it.  From  first  to  last  I  never  said  a  word  about  fees,  in 
any  of  those  cases,  and  I  should  have  said  nothing  about  them  here,  if 
calumnies  and  insinuations  had  not  been  propagated  that  I  was  tempted  by 
great  fees  and  enormous  sums  of  money.  Before  or  after  the  trial,  Preston 
sent  me  ten  guineas,  and,  at  the  trial  of  the  soldiers  afterward,  eight  guineas 
more,  which  were  all  the  fees  I  ever  received  or  were  offered  to  me,  and  I 
should  not  have  said  anything  on  the  subject  to  my  clients,  if  they  had 
never  offered  me  anything.  This  was  all  the  pecuniary  reward  I  ever  had 
for  fourteen  or  fifteen  days'  labor,  in  the  most  exhausting  and  fatiguing 
cases  I  ever  tried,  for  hazarding  a  popularity  very  general  and  very  hardly 
earned,  and  for  incurring  a  clamor,  popular  suspicions  and  prejudices,  which 
are  not  yet  worn  out,  and  never  will  be  forgotten  as  long  as  the  history 
of  this  period  is  read.  It  was  immediately  bruited  about  that  I  was  engaged 
for  Preston  and  the  soldiers,  and  occasioned  a  great  clamor,  which  the  fi  (ends 
of  government  delighted  to  hear  and  slyly  and  secretly  foment  with  all  their 
art." 

The  trial  of  the  soldiers  was  postponed  to  a  later  term  of  court.  The 
account  of  the  trial,  when  it  was  called,  survives  very  briefly  in  the  auto 
biography,  and  may  be  again  quoted  :  "  Not  long  after  the  adjournment  of 
the  general  court,  came  on  the  trial  of  Captain  Preston  and  the  soldiers. 
I  shall  say  little  of  these  cases.  Preston's  trial  was  taken  down  in  short 
hand  and  sent  to  England,  but  was  never  printed  here.  I  told  the  court 
and  jury  in  both  cases  that,  as  I  was  no  authority,  I  wrould  propose  to  them 
no  law  from  my  own  memory,  but  would  read  to  them  all  I  had  to  say  of 
that  nature  from  books,  which  the  court  knew,  and  the  counsel  on  the  other 
side  must  acknowledge,  to  be  indisputable  authorities.  The  rule  was  care 
fully  observed,  but  the  authorities  were  so  clear  and  full  that  no  question  of 
law  was  made.  The  juries  in  both  cases,  in  my  opinion,  gave  correct  ver 
dicts.  It  appeared  to  me  that  the  greatest  service  which  could  be  rendered 
to  the  people  of  the  town,  was  to  lay  before  them  the  law  as  it  stood,  that 
they  might  be  fully  apprised  of  the  dangers  of  various  kinds,  which  must 
arise  from  intemperate  heats  and  irregular  commotions.  Although  the 
clamor  was  very  loud,  among  some  sorts  of  people,  it  has  been  a  great  con 
solation  to  me  through  life,  that  I  acted,  in  this  business,  with  steady  impar 
tiality,  and  conducted  it  to  so  happy  an  issue." 

Six  of  the  eight  soldiers  were  acquitted  on  this  trial ;  the  others  were 
convicted  of  manslaughter,  and,  pleading  a  benefit  of  clergy,  were  branded 
on  the  hand  and  released.  In  the  continuation,  by  Charles  Francis  Adams, 
of  the  memoir  of  his  grandfather,  begun  by  John  Quincy  Adams,  is  given 
a  considerable  extract  from  the  speech  of  the  illustrious  counsel  for  the 


DEFENSE    OF    THE    SOLDIERS.  297 

defense.  It  was  simple,  scholarly,  and,  in  every  sentence,  to  the  question. 
It  opened  as  follows  :  "  May  it  please  your  honors,  and  you  gentlemen  of 
the  jury,  I  am  for  the  prisoners  at  the  bar,  and  shall  apologize  for  it  only  in 
the  language  of  the  Marquis  Beccaria  :  'If  I  can  but  be  the  instrument  of 
preserving  one  life,  his  blessing  and  tears  of  transport  shall  be  sufficient 
consolation  to  me  for  the  contempt  of  mankind.'  '  This  was,  in  reality, 
the  view  of  the  case  taken  by  Mr.  Adams.  It  is  easier  now  to  undervalue 
than  to  appreciate  the  real  strength  of  character  necessary  to  the  assump 
tion  and  performance  of  what  he  felt  to  be  his  duty.  The  defense  of 
Charles  I.,  against  the  charges  of  the  commonwealth;  of  Louis  XVI., 
against  the  fury  of  the  revolutionists  ;  of  Wilkes  Booth,  had  his  death  not 
anticipated  trial,  against  the  charge  of  murder — these,  while  the  right  may 
have  lain  on  a  different  side  of  the  case,  will  convey  some  faint  idea  of  the 
hazard  of  Mr.  Adams' -decision.  All  the  respect  in  which  he  was  held  ;  all 
the  reputation  gained  by  years  of  conscientious  uprightness  ;  all  the  hope  of 
future  success  and  preferment,  which  exists  in  the  breast  of  every  generous 
man, — all  these  were  placed  in  the  balance,  and  weighed  not  at  all  against 
his  persuasion  of  justice  and  duty.  Quincy,  who  was  associated  with  him 
in  the  trial,  received  from  his  father  a  letter,  remonstrating  against  any  con 
nection  with  the  matter.  He  answered  bravely  and  manfully,  as  would 
Adams,  had  he  been  put  to  the  test :  "To  inquire  my  duty,  and  do  it,  is 
my  aim.  I  dare  affirm  that  you  and  this  whole  people  will  one  day  rejoice 
that  I  became  an  advocate  for  the  aforesaid  criminals,  charged  with  the 
murder  of  our  fellow-citizens." 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  however,  Adams  lost  nothing  of  popularity  by  his 
action.  The  best  element  of  the  people  came  to  recognize,  in  the  soberness 
of  afterthought,  the  fact  that  he  was  right  in  his  judgment,  and  that  the  kill 
ing  of  the  five  citizens,  which,  even  to  this  day,  is  miscalled  the  "Boston 
massacre,"  was,  in  fact,  the  simplest  act  of  self-defense  on  the  part  of  the 
soldiers.  Pending  the  trial,  James  Bowdoin,  a  member  of  the  house  of 
representatives,  had  been  advanced  to  the  council,  leaving  a  vacancy  in  the 
former  body.  A  special  election  was  held  on  the  6th  of  June,  and  Mr. 
Adams  was  elected  successor  of  Bowdoin,  by  a  vote  of  four  hundred  and 
eighteen  out  of  a  total  poll  of  five  hundred  and  thirty-six  votes.  He  thus 
gives  an  account  of  the  event  in  his  autobiography : 

"  I  had  never  been  to  Boston  town  meeting,  and  was  not  at  this  until 
messengers  came  to  inform  me  that  I  was  chosen.  I  went  down  to  Faneuil 
hall,  and,  in  a  few  words,  expressive  of  my  sense  of  the  difficulty  and  dan 
ger  of  the  times,  of  the  importance  of  the  trust,  and  of  my  own  insuffi 
ciency  to  fulfil  the  expectations  of  the  people,  I  accepted  the  choice.  Many 
congratulations  were  offered,  which  I  received  civilly,  but  they  gave  no  joy 
to  me.  I  considered  the  step  a  devotion  of  my  family  to  ruin,  and  myself 
to  death ;  for  I  could  scarce  perceive  a  possibility  that  I  should  ever  go 


298  JOHN    ADAMS. 

through  the  thorns  and  leap  all  the  precipices  before  me  and  escape  with  my 
life.  At  this  time.  I  had  more  business  at  the  bar  than  any  man  in  the 
province.  My  health  was  feeble.  I  was  throwing  away  as  bright  prospects 
as  any  man  ever  had  before  him,  and  I  had  devoted  myself  to  endless  labor 
and  anxiety,  if  not  to  infamy  and  to  death,  and  that  for  nothing,  except 
what  indeed  was,  and  ought  to  be  in  all,  a  sense  of  duty.  In  the  evening  I 
expressed  to  Mrs.  Adams  all  my  apprehensions.  That  excellent  lady,  who 
has  always  encouraged  me,  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears,  but  said  she  was  very 
sensible  of  all  the  danger  to  her  and  to  our  children,  as  well  as  to  me,  but 
she  thought  I  had  done  as  I  ought;  she  was  very  willing  to  share  in  all  that 
was  to  come,  and  place  her  trust  in  Providence." 

Mr.  Adams  at  once  proceeded  to  Cambridge  and  took  his  seat  in  the 
general  court,  which  had  been  convened  at  that  place  by  the  governor,  as  a 
punishment  of  the  contumacious  Bostonians.  A  little  anecdote  related  in 
the  autobiography  is  somewhat  amusing.  At  that  session  the  words  "In 
general  court  assembled  and  by  authority  of  the  same,"  were  replaced  in 
the  preamble  of  bills  presented,  having  been  before  used,  but  dropped  at 
the  instance  of  a  former  king's  governor,  Shirley,  who  then  lived  at  Rox- 
bury.  Quite  a  dispute  arose  on  the  subject  of  the  use  of  this  form,  and  the 
old  ex-governor,  having  read  of  it  in  the  papers,  asked  :  ' '  Who  has  revived 
those  old  words?  They  were  expunged  during  my  administration." 
"The  Boston  seat,"  was  the  answer.  "  And  who  are  the  Boston  seat?" 
"Mr.  Gushing,  Mr.  Hancock,  Mr.  Samuel  Adams,  and  Mr.  John  Adams." 
"Mr.  Gushing  I  know,  and  Mr.  Hancock  I  know,"  he  replied,  "but  where 
the  devil  this  brace  of  Adamses  came  from,  I  know  not." 

Mr.  Adams  continued  a  representative  of  the  town  of  Boston  until  the 
spring  of  1771,  when,  compelled  by  the  failure  of  his  health,  he  removed  his 
family  to  the  old  home  at  Braintree.  His  legislative  service  was  very  ardu 
ous.  Never  a  man  to  assume  a  duty  without  solemnly  dedicating  himself 
to  its  performance ;  recognized  as  the  foremost  constitutional  lawyer  of  the 
province,  he  was  constantly  employed  upon  committees  having  to  deal  with 
one  or  another  of  the  multitudinous  phases  of  the  contest  between  the  crown 
and  the  province.  He  drew  long  reports  and  resolutions,  many  of  which 
involved  laborious  and  exhaustive  legal  research  ;  he  conducted  protracted 
and  trying  arguments  in  the  press  ;  he  labored  with  the  people  to  keep  alive 
the-  independent  sentiments  which  he  feared  would  be  weakened  by  the  les 
sening  of  immediate  cause  of  irritation.  During  the  session  of  1770,  he  was 
appointed  upon  no  less  than  eighteen  special  committees,  every  one  of 
which  called  for  important  service  which  fell  very  largely  to  his  lot.  In 
addition  to  his  regular  and  special  labor  as  a  legislator,  he  continued  to 
carry  on  his  practice  as  a  lawyer,  the  largest  in  the  province,  and  to  respond 
to  constant  calls  for  advice  and  assistance  in  matters  of  public  moment,  and, 
beyond  all  these,  the  social  demands  inevitably  made  upon  a  man  of  his  posi- 


CONTROVERSY    WITH    BRATTLE.  2OX} 

— all  combined  to  deprive  him  of  leisure  for  rest  or  study,  and 
eventually  to  undermine  his  health  and  seriously  threaten  his  life.  He  did 
not,  upon  the  removal  of  his  family,  give  up  his  office  in  Boston,  but,  save  for 
a  few  weeks,  while  absent  in  quest  of  health,  was  almost  daily  in  the  city,  and 
gave  much  attention  to  his  practice.  In  November  of  the  year  17/2,  find 
ing  himself  much  stronger  and  tired  of  the  inconvenient  ride  from  Braintree 
to  Boston,  he  purchased  a  house  in  the  latter  town  and  once  more  removed 
his  residence  there,  at  the  same  time  determining  not  to  be  drawn  into 
politics.  How  soon  he  was  compelled,  by  a  sense  of  duty,  to  give  over  this 
resolve  and  plunge  into  a  heated  and  dangerous  contest,  is  a  matter  of 
familiar  history. 

In  1773  came  the  proposal  to  take  the  judicial  officers  of  the  province 
into  the  king's  pay,  thus  making  them  dependent,  not  only  for  their  places, 
but  for  their  support,  upon  the  crown,  and  winning,  if  possible,  a  subserv 
ience  which  should  be  useful  in  securing  the  suppression  of  "  incendiary  " 
processes.  This  plan,  and  the  subsequent  enactment  in  which  it  was 
crystallized,  while  they  did  not  so  immediately  appeal  to  the  fears  of  the 
common  people  as  did  the  stamp  act,  excited  greater  apprehension  among 
the  thinking  men  of  the  community.  The  former  was  a  single  act  of  over 
bearing  injustice,  falling  under  the  control  of  these  courts,  and  within  the 
statutes,  the  rules  of  the  common  law,  and  the  guaranties  of  the  constitu 
tion,  which  would  justify  its  defeat  whenever  its  evident  conflict  with  an}-  of 
them  should  be  manifest;  the  latter  was  a  deeper,  more  vital,  in  every  way 
more  dangerous  blow.  It  struck  at  the  very  foundation  of  things,  threatening 
the  principal  safeguard  of  popular  liberty,  and  promising  to  open  the  way 
for  the  unopposed  enforcement  of  the  most  tyrannous  decrees  of  the  home 
government.  No  one  was  more  anxious  or  instant  in  opposing  the  innova 
tion,  than  was  Adams.  He,  however,  made  no  public  expression  in  the 
matter  until  William  Brattle,  of  Cambridge,  who  had  been  heartily  opposed 
to  the  stamp  act,  but  had  since  succumbed  to  the  wiles  of  Hutchinson, 
made  a  speech  in  favor  of  the  new  judiciary  act,  in  a  town  meeting,  at  which 
the  citizens  had  almost  unanimously  voted  to  instruct  their  representative  to 
oppose  that  measure.  After  making  a  succession  of  mis-statements,  and 
advancing  a  series  of  sophisms,  he  challenged,  by  name,  several  persons, 
including  Mr.  Adams,  to  oppose  his  arguments.  But  for  the  fear  that  his 
silence  might  be  interpreted  as  an  assent,  Mr.  Adams  would  probably  have 
passed  even  so  direct  a  challenge  without  notice,  but  as  Brattle  published 
his  argument  and  defiance  in  one  of  the  Boston  papers,  the  matter  seemed 
to  demand'attention.  Hence,  Adams  prepared  and  published,  in  the  Bos 
ton  Gazette,  during  the  early  months  of  1775,  a  series  of  eight  letters, 
which  completely  silenced  Brattle,  and  did  very  much  in  awakening  the 
people  to  appreciation  of  the  enormous  wrong  meditated. 

The  burden  of  the  argument  tended  to  enforce  the  necessity  cf 


300  JOHN  Ar/.MS. 

taining  an  independent  judiciary,  directly  responsible  to  the  people ;  to  point 
the  effect  of  transferring  to  the  home  government  the  payment  as  well  as 
the  appointment  of  judges,  in  undermining  their  independence,  and,  lastly, 
to  prove  the  desirability  of  making  the  tenure  of  their  office  continue 
during  good  behavior,  and  to  show  that  such  a  tenure  did  not,  as  argued  by 
Brattle,  already  exist  in  the  province.  Hutchinson  could  not  have  been 
more  devoted  to  the  interests  of  the  administration  had  he  been  born  and 
lived  in  Mayfair.  Though  a  native  of  Massachusetts,  and  a  life-long  asso 
ciate  with  the  leaders  of  the  liberty  movement,  he  had  given  or  sold  him 
self,  body  and  soul,  to  the  king,  held  several  judicial  offices  in  addition  to 
the  governorship,  and  had  handsomely  provided  for  his  relatives  and  friends. 
He  was  thoroughly  in  sympathy  with  the  effort  to  purchase  the  judiciary, 
yet  he  saw  enough  in  Adams'  argument  to  lead  him  to  write  to  the  home 
government,  urging  that,  to  allay  the  distrust  of  the  people,  a  specific 
promise  be  made  them,  that  the  judges  should  hold  office  only  during  good 
behavior. 

Mr.  Adams  had  been  dragged  into  an  unwilling  prominence  by  the 
necessity  of  answering  Brattle's  impertinent  challenge,  and  would  gladly 
have  again  withdrawn  to  the  peace  and  obscurity  of  private  life,  but  the 
emergencies  of  the  time  would  not  permit  such  indulgence,  and  he  was, 
much  against  his  will,  compelled  to  resume  the  pen  in  the  defense  of  popu 
lar  rights.  The  occasion  arose  as  follows :  The  spirit  of  independence  had 
grown  so  strong  and  bold,  that  the  denial  of  the  right  of  parliament  to 
interfere  with  the  internal  affairs  of  the  province  was  openly  made.  Hutch 
inson  repeated  one  of  the  many  mistakes  of  his  predecessor,  Bernard,  by 
challenging  a  pointless  and  utterly  gratuitous  contest  with  the  people.  At 
the  opening  of  the  general  court,  in  1773,  he  made  an  elaborate  argument 
in  support  of  the  prerogative.  He  was  very  \vell  satisfied  with  his  effort, 
and,  having  little  fear  of  an  answer,  felt  confident  of  producing  a  decided 
popular  reaction.  The  argument  was  not  a  very  profound  one,  depending 
largely  upon  the  necessary  correlation  of  the  duty  of  obedience  with  the 
privilege  of  claiming  protection.  He  avowed  that  the  ultimate  authority 
must  be  either  in  Great  Britain  or  in  the  province  itself;  if  in  the  latter, 
what  was  it  but  independence,  and  what  obligation  remained  in  Great  Britain 
to  extend  her  protection  further  than  her  authority  ?  Proceeding  to  the 
clause  of  the  colonial  charter  by  which  the  inhabitants  of  Massachusetts 
were  guaranteed  all  the  rights  of  Englishmen,  he  said  that  the  rights  of 
Englishmen  were  not  uniform,  even  within  England.  He  sophistically 
urged  that  the  rights  guaranteed  were  necessarily  limited  to  such  as  it  was 
possible  to  grant ;  that  by  leaving  England,  the  colonists  had  voluntarily 
cut  themselves  off  from  many  rights,  including  that  of  representation,  which 
they  might  resume  upon  returning.  Thus  he  skilfully  substituted  the  par 
ticular  right  of  the  individual  for  the  corporate  right  of  the  colonist,  and  sue- 


CONTROVERSY   WITH    ARATTLE.  30 1 

ceeded  in  evolving  a  very  specious,  though  thoroughly  false,  argument  in 
favor  of  his  position. 

This  could  not,  of  course,  be  suffered  to  pass  in  silence  ;  a  committee 
of  the  House  was  appointed,  charged  with  the  duty  of  preparing  an  answer 
and  empowered  to  call  for  aid  from  competent  persons,  within  or  without 
Massachusetts,  in  framing  it. 


3O2  JOHN    ADAMS. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

REPLY  TO  THE  GOVERNOR— ADAMS   APPOINTED    DELEGATE  TO  THE  FIRST  CONGRESS. 

IT  is  said  upon  the  authority  of  a  single  person,  that  the  assistance  of  Mr. 
Dulany,  of  Maryland,  and  John  Dickinson,  of  Pennsylvania, — both  of 
whom  had  been  prominent  in  opposition  to  the  stamp  act,  was  solicited  by 
the  committee  for  the  service  named  in  the  last  chapter,  and  refused ;  be 
this  as  it  may,  they  certainly  bore  no  part  in  preparing  the  answer,  which 
was  very  slow  in  appearing.  When  it  came,  every  one  at  once  acknowl 
edged  its  logical  force,  clearness,  and  exhaustiveness.  It  went  to  the  very 
root  of  the  question,  denying  much  to  the  king  that  had  been  universally 
admitted.  It  denied  the  right  of  the  monarch  of  a  Christian  people  to 
seize  the  lands  of  heathen,  and  grant  them  at  his  pleasure;  by  hypothetically 
admitting  this  right,  however,  it  proceeded  with  the  statement  that  the 
sovereign,  in  whom,  if  not  in  its  aboriginal  inhabitants,  lay  the  title  to  the 
lands  lying  within  the  boundaries  of  the  province,  had  expressly  granted  to 
certain  of  his  subjects  the  right  to  occupy  and  settle  the  same,  under  certain 
restrictions  appearing  in  the  language  of  the  grant ;  this,  it  was  claimed, 
reduced  the  question  from  one  of  natural  right  to  one  of  interpretation  of 
the  grant,  and  of  the  presumption  arising  from  subsequent  acts  of  the 
colonists,  done  under  its  sanction,  and  countenanced  by  the  king.  Among 
these  acts  \vas  that  of  making  all  laws  for  the  internal  government  of 
the  province,  subject  to  no  restriction,  save  that  they  should  not  be  repug 
nant  to  the  laws  of  England.  This  very  limitation,  under  Lord  Bacon's 
rule,  would  increase  the  presumptive  right  of  self-government  on  the  part 
of  the  colony.  For  the  king  to  have  made  a  guaranty  of  the  rights  of 
British  subjects,  as  an  integral  part  of  a  colonial  grant,  unless  those  rights 
were  intended  to  be  exercised  in  that  colony,  would  be  an  absurdity.  If 
these  rights  could  only  be  enforced  by  returning  to  England,  it  needed  no 
solemn  act  of  the  king  to  convey  them,  for  they  already  existed,  and  to 
withdraw  them  was  beyond  his  powrer.  The  paper  then  proceeded  to  a 


REPLY    TO    THE    GOVERNOR.  303 

review  of  Mr.  Hutchinson's  precedents,  and  less  vital  arguments;  by  a 
clever  argumcntum  ad  Jioniinein,  it  turned  against  him  his  own  words, 
embodied  in  his  History  of  Massachusetts,  to  prove  his  disingenuousness. 

The  effect  of  this  masterly  paper  was  not  only  to  completely  rout  the 
governor,  but  to  more  than  counteract  his  own  argument.  Had  he  been 
content  to  allow  matters  to  take  their  course,  the  progress  of  the  liberty 
propaganda  must  have  been  slow,  but  his  unwise  and  ill-considered  precipi 
tation  of  the  contest,  and  his  ignominious  defeat  gave  to  his  enemies  a 
power  for  which  they  might  long  have  striven  in  vain. 

The  authorship  of  the  answer  has  been  very  much  questioned  and  dis 
cussed,  yet  it  seems  very  plain  that  the  facts  were  fully  recognized  at  the 
time.  As  it  was  by  far  the  most  important  state  document  of  the  pre- 
revolutionary  period,  it  seems  proper  that  the  credit  for  its  preparation 
should  be  properly  bestowed.  The  facts  appear  to  have  been  as  follows  : 
A  committee,  which  included  Samuel  Adams  and  Joseph  Hawley,  was 
appointed  by  the  house  to  frame  a  reply  to  the  governor's  argument.  An 
answer  was,  in  fact,  prepared,  principally  by  Mr.  Samuel  Adams,  after  the 
completion  of  which,  Mr.  John  Adams,  though  not  a  member  of  the 
house,  was  called  upon  for  counsel.  His  autobiography  tells  much  of  what 
followed : 

"When  I  first  met  the  gentlemen,  they  had  an  answer  to  his  excel 
lency's  speech  already  prepared,  neatly  and  elegantly  composed,  which  I 
then  believed  to  have  been  written  by  Samuel  Adams,  but  which  I  have 
since  had  reason  to  suspect  was  drawn  at  his  desire  and  with  his  co-opera 
tion,  by  my  friend,  Dr.  Joseph  Warren.  It  was  full  of  those  elementary 
principles  of  liberty,  equality,  and  fraternity,  which  have  since  made  such  a 
figure  in  the  world  ;  principles  which  are  founded  in  nature  and  eternal, 
unchangeable  truth,  but  which  must  be  well  understood  and  cautiously 
applied.  It  is  not  safe,  at  all  times,  and  in  every  cause,  to  apply  the  ratio 
ultima  vcrinn ;  resort  to  club  law  and  force  of  arms.  There  was  no  answer, 
or  attempt  to  answer,  the  governor's  legal  and  constitutional  arguments. 
such  as  they  were.  I  found  myself  in  a  delicate  situation,  as  you  may  well 
suppose.  In  the  first  place,  the  self-love  of  the  composer,  who  I  believed 
to  be  Samuel  Adams,  having  then  no  suspicion  of  Warren,  would  be  hurt 
by  garbling  his  infant.  In  the  second  place,  to  strike  out  principles  which  I 
loved  as  well  as  any  of  the  people,  would  be  odious  and  unpopular, 
read  that  West  would  give  five  hundred  dollars  for  a  red  lion,  which  he 
painted  for  a  sign  post.  I,  poor  as  I  am,  would  give  as  much  for  a  copy 
of  that  answer  to  Governor  Hutchinson.  But  I  fear  it  is  lost  forever  ;  it 
may,  however,  be  found  hereafter,  and  I  hope  it  may. 

read  the  answer,  paragraph  by  paragraph.  I  suggested  my  doubts,  scruples, 
and  difficulties  The  committee  seemed  to  see  and  feel  the  force  of  them. 
The  gentlemen  condescended  to  ask  my  opinion  what  answer  would  be 


304  JOHN    ADAMS. 

proper  for  them  to  report.  I  modestly  suggested  to  them  the  propriety  of 
leaving  out  many  of  those  popular  and  elegant  periods,  and  of  discussing 
the  question,  with  the  governor,  upon  principles  more  especially  legal  and 
constitutional.  The  gentlemen  very  civilly  requested  me  to  undertake  the 
task,  and  I  agreed  to  attempt  it.  The  committee  met  from  evening  to 
evening,  and  I  soon  made  my  report.  I  drew  a  line  over  the  most  eloquent 
parts  of  the  oration  they  had  before  them,  and  reduced  those  legal  and  his 
torical  authorities  which  appear  on  the  record.  It  is  more  than  forty  years 
since  I  have  seen  any  one  of  those  papers  which  composed  the  controversy, 
and  I  know  not  how  they  would  appear  to  the  present  generation,  nor 
indeed,  how  they  would  appear  to  myself.  They  stand  upon  record  and 
were  printed  together,  in  a  pamphlet,  and  no  doubt  in  the  newspapers. 
They  ought  to  be  looked  up,  for  the  effect  of  them  upon  public  opinion  was 
beyond  expectation.  The  governor's  reasoning,  instead  of  convincing  the 
people  that  parliament  had  sovereign  authority  over  them  in  all  cases  what 
soever,  seemed  to  convince  all  the  world  that  parliament  had  no  authority 
over  them,  in  any  case  whatsoever.  Mr.  Hutchinson  really  made  a  meagre 
figure  in  that  dispute.  He  had  waded  beyond  his  depth.  He  had  wholly 
misunderstood  the  legal  doctrine  of  allegiance.  In  all  great  affairs  there  is 
always  something  ridiculous  ;  et  malheurcusement,  fat  toujours  ete  trop  inclina 
a  saisir  les  ridicules.  I  had  quoted  largely  from  a  law  authority  which  no 
man  in  Massachusetts,  at  that  time,  had  ever  read.  Hutchinson  and  all  his 
law  counsels  were  at  fault.  They  dared  not  deny  it,  lest  the  book  should  be 
produced  to  their  confusion.  It  was  humorous  enough  to  see  how  Hutchin 
son  wriggled  to  evade  it.  He  found  nothing  better  to  say  than  that  "  it  was 
the  artificial  reasoning  of  Lord  Coke."  The  book  was  Moore's  Reports. 
The  owner  of  it,  for  alas,  master,  it  was  borrowed,  was  a  buyer,  but  not  a 
reader  of  books.  It  had  been  Mr.  Gridley's." 

From  this  statement  it  must  be  very  clear  that,  while  Samuel  Adams 
framed  the  body  of  the  answer,  it  was  his  more  distinguished  kinsman  who 
breathed  into  it  the  soul  ;  that,  while  without  his  help  it  might  have 
ranked  as  a  very  pretty  patriotic  declaration,  it  was  the  master  hand  and 
mind  of  John  Adams  which  gave  it  its  vital  power,  and  made  it,  as  it  is 
even  to-day,  a  significant  argument  to  the  point. 

Hutchinson's  reply  was  very  lame.  He  recast  his  argument,  falling 
back  upon  the  right  of  eminent  domain,  to  sustain  the  theory  that  British 
subjects,  in  every  part  of  the  world,  held  their  lands  from  the  crown  of 
England,  not  from  the  king  as  an  individual,  and  that  an  obligation  to  sub 
mit  to  the  authority  of  the  crown  was  a  necessary  correlative  of  such  tenure. 
This  was,  in  effect,  to  claim  that  the  colonists  of  Massachusetts  were  feuda 
tories  of  the  crown,  and  such  argument  was  equivalent  to  a  desertion  of  the 
ground  which  he  had  formerly  taken.  Of  course,  such  vacillation  did  not 
strengthen  his  case.  It  was,  in  fact,  practically  an  admission  of  defeat. 


REPLY    TO    THE    GOVERNOR.  305 

If  he  was  before  defeated,  he  had  now  opened  Lhe  way  for  annihilation. 
The  committee  again  consulted  Adams,  who  prepared  an  admirable  rebuttal 
of  Hutchinson's  new  argument,  which  completely  drove  the  latter  from  the 
field,  earning  him  the  contempt  of  the  colonists,  and  bringing  upon  him  the 
criticism  of  the  administration  to  which  he  was  so  servilely  devoted. 

Hutchinson's  influence,  and  consequent  value  to  the  home  government, 
was  very  much  impaired  by  this  faux  pas,  and,  very  shortly  afterward,  came 
the  finishing  stroke.  By  some  agency  never  fully  explained,  there  came  into 
the  possession  of  Mr.  Adams  and  his  few  stanch  and  confidential  associates, 
a  number  of  letters  written  by  Hutchinson  and  his  friends  to  correspondents 
in  England.  These  letters  made  a  sensation,  even  among  those  who  had 
none  too  great  confidence  in  the  governor ;  they  had  before  given  him  credit 
for  a  certain  measure  of  sincerity;  they  now  discovered  that  he  was  a  Judas, 
trafficking  in  the  liberties  of  his  countrymen,  in  the  coolest  and  most  calcu 
lating  manner.  The  possession  of  the  letters  was  for  a  time  kept  for  the 
most  part  a  secret,  none  but  the  faithful  being  informed  of  their  existence. 
Then  it  was  deemed  wise  to  extend  the  knowledge  to  some  honest  men  who, 
misled  by  Hutchinson's  arguments,  were  wavering  in  their  allegiance  to  the 
patriot  cause.  Among  these  was  John  Hancock.  Never  so  much  of  a  man 
as  he  has  had  credit  for  being,  the  most  wealthy  colonist  of  Massachusetts, 
conceited,  and  easily  offended,  he  was  out  of  conceit  with  Adams  and  others 
of  his  old  associates,  and  already  found  his  friends  and  advisers  in  the  oppo 
site  camp.  A  timely  reading  of  Hutchinson's  letters  brought  him  at  once 
to  his  senses,  and  he  joined  heartily  in  the  effort  which  was  later  made  to 
secure  the  removal  of  the  obnoxious  and  treacherous  governor.  On  May 
25,  1773,  occurred  the  annual  election  of  members  of  the  general  assembly. 
Friends  of  Mr.  Adams  so  persistently  urged  him  to  accept  an  election  to 
the  council,  and  supported  their  request  by  appeals  to  his  public  spirit,  so 
strong  that  he  wras  induced  to  give  over  his  determination  to  remain  aloof 
from  public  affairs  and  consent  to  the  use  of  his  name.  He  was  elected  by 
a  very  large  majority,  but,  having  done  what  he  deemed  the  right,  was  still 
saved  from  the  service  he  so  little  desired,  by  the  act  of  the  governor,  who 
exercised  his  right  of  objection,  and  prevented  him  from  assuming  his  seat. 
No  sooner  had  the  general  court  met  than  the  letters  of  Hutchinson  and 
his  associates  were  published,  and  were  made  the  basis  of  a  petition  of  the 
general  court  to  the  king,  praying  the  removal  of  Hutchinson  from  his  post 
of  governor,  and,  also,  of  Andrew  Oliver,  who  was  then  lieutenant-governor. 
It  seemed  extremely  unlikely  that  the  expressed  wish  of  the  colonists  should 
avail  against  either,  and  the  petition  was,  in  fact,  ignored,  but  other  con 
siderations  compassed  the  desired  end.  Hutchinson  had  made  so  many  mis 
takes  and  was  so  completely  unmasked  before  the  people  that  his  usefulness 
was  over.  Being  severely  criticized  in  England,  he  later  sent  a  request  to 
be  allowed  to  explain  his  action  in  person,  and  receiving  it,  sailed  from  Bos- 


306  JOHN    ADAMS. 

ton  never  again  to  see  the  land  which  he   had  both   loved   and   wronged. 

Hutchinson  out  of  the  way,  the  attention  of  the  general  court  was 
turned  to  the  question  of  judicial  salaries.  Strong  efforts  were  made  to 
induce  the  judges  to  refuse  to  accept  payment  from  the  home  government, 
but  these  developed  the  fact  that  the  chief  justice  had  already  drawn  his 
salary  for  eighteen  months  ;  that  three  of  the  judges  were  inclined  to  the 
same  course,  and  that  only  one — Trowbridge — could  be  depended  upon  to 
respect  the  will  of  the  people.  This  seemed  a  hopeless  case;  the  crown, 
the  governor,  the  council,,  the  judges  themselves — all  were  arrayed  in  sup 
port  of  the  outrageous  measure,  and  there  seemed,  indeed,  no  recourse  but 
in  submission.  The  house  had  drawn  up  a  petition  demanding  the  removal 
of  the  chief  justice,  and  had  even  gone  so  far  as  to  vote  the  adjournment  of 
the  superior  court,  for  three  days,  after  the  commencement  of  the  term,  to 
prevent  his  sitting,  pending  the  action  of  the  governor  and  council  in  the 
premises.  Of  course  the  petition  was  not  considered,  as  the  governor  and 
council  could  scarcely  have  reversed  the  edict  of  king  and  parliament.  At 
this  juncture,  Mr.  Adams  attended  a  large  and  mixed  dinner  party,  at  the 
house  of  Mr.  Samuel  Winthrop.  The  conversation  was  almost  entirely 
regarding  the  judicial  question.  After  nearly  every  person  at  the  table  had 
spoken,  the  last,  turning  to  Mr.  Adams,  said,  "  Mr.  Adams,  we  have  not 
heard  your  sentiments  on  this  subject;  how  do  you  consider  it?"  He 
answered  that  his  own  sentiments  had  been  expressed  by  others;  that,  if 
nothing  could  be  done  to  defeat  the  measures  of  the  crown,  the  ruin  of  the 
province  would  be  accomplished. 

"  But,"  said  Dr.  Winthrop,  "  what  can  be  done?  " 

Adams  answered  :  "I  know  not  whether  any  one  will  approve  of  my 
opinion,  yet  I  believe  there  is  one  constitutional  resource." 

Several  voices  at  once  cried  out:  "A  constitutional  resource;  what 
can  it  be?" 

"It  is,"  said  Mr.  Adams,  "nothing  more  nor  less  than  an  impeachment 
of  the  judges,  by  the  house  of  representatives,  before  the  council." 

These  words  created  the  greatest  excitement.  Some  cried  out  that 
such  a  course  was  without  precedent. 

"  I  believe  it,  is  so, "  said  Adams,  "in  this  province,  but  there  have 
been  precedents  enough,  and  by  much  too  many,  in  England.  It  is  a  dan 
gerous  experiment  at  all  times,  but  it  is  essential  to  the  preservation  of  the 
constitution,  in  some  cases,  that  could  be  reached  by  no  other  power  but 
that  of  impeachment." 

"But  whence  can  we  pretend  to  derive  such  power,"  was  the  next 
question. 

"From  our  charter,  which  gives  us,  in  words  as  express,  as  clear, 
and  as  strong  as  the  language  affords,  all  the  rights  of  Englishmen,  and,  if 
the  house  of  commons,  in  England,  is  the  grand  inquest  of  the  nation,  the 


JOHN    HANCOCK. 


APPOINTED    DELEGATE    TO    THE    FIRST    CONGRESS.  3O/ 

house  of  representatives  is  the  grand  inquest  of  this  province,  and  the 
council  must  have  the  powers  of  judicature  of  the  house  of  lords  in  Great 
Britain. " 

After  had  passed  the  first  surprise  excited  by  this  bold  proposal,  the 
practicability  of  such  a  measure  was  discussed  at  length.  The  company 
was  well  agreed  in  believing  that,  though  the  house  might  impeach  the 
judges,  the  council,  being  under  the  domination  of  the  governor,  would 
either  refuse  to  try  the  impeachment,  or,  trying,  would  not  sustain  it.  As 
events  proved,  there  was  also  a  general  feeling  that  the  experiment  should 
be  tried.  There  seemed  no  other  resort,  and,  having  made  a  case,  if  jus 
tice  could  not  be  obtained,  the  odium  must  rest  where  it  properly  belonged. 
On  the  next  clay,  Hawley,  a  member  of  the  house,  called  upon  Mr.  Adams, 
and  questioned  him  closely  as  to  the  law  and  authorities  bearing  upon  the 
matter  ;  examined  the  English  statutes,  and  consulted  the  state  trials  and 
other  reports,  in  search  of  authorities.  Thence  he  went  directly  to  see  Mr. 
Trowbriclge,  the  only  judge  who  had  refused  the  purchase  money  of  the 
king,  and  discussed  the  subject  with  him.  Truly  an  odd  situation;  calling 
upon  a  public  officer  to  consult  with  him  as  to  the  propriety  of  instituting 
proceedings  for  his  own  impeachment!  Trowbridge,  although  he  had 
renounced  the  salary  of  his  position,  naturally  did  not  highly  relish  the  pro 
posal  to  so  summarily  assail  the  bench,  yet  he  was  obliged  to  admit  that 
there  existed  unquestionable  constitutional  and  chartered  authority  for  the 
proceeding. 

Reinforced  by  this  opinion,  the  house  appointed  a  committee  to  draw 
up  articles  of  impeachment  against  Oliver,  the  chief  justice.  Hawley  was  a 
member  of  the  committee,  and  insisted  upon  having  .Adams'  counsel  in  the 
matter.  Hence  the  committee  passed  evening  after  evening  at  his  house, 
examining  the  impeachment,  article  by  article,  in  the  light  of  his  advice 
and  the  authorities,  until  all  was  read}*.  Then  the  report  was  made,  and 
the  house,  adopting  the  impeachment,  sent  it  up  to  the  council,  where  it 
rested  without  consideration,  much  to  the  delight  of  the  tory  part}'.  This 
feeling  was,  however,  very  short  lived,  for,  when  the  superior  court  met, 
with  Oliver  upon  the  bench,  the  jurors,  both  of  the  grand  and  petit  panel, 
as  their  names  were  called,  refused,  to  a  man,  to  take  the  oath.  Their  rea 
sons  being  asked,  they  replied  that  the  chief-justice  of  the  court  stood 
impeached  of  high  crimes  and  misdemeanors  before  his  majesty's  council, 
and  they  would  not  sit  as  jurors  while  that  accusation  was  depending. 
Juror^  at  Charlcstown,  Worcester  and  other  points  in  the  province  took  the 
same  stand,  the  courts  were  necessarily  adjourned,  never  again  to  meet 
under  royal  authority.  When  next  they  came  together,  it  was  by  the  call 
of  the  governor,  after  the  battle  of  Lexington,  and  under  the  rights 
granted  the  province  in  its  charter.  Thus  the  impeachment,  received  with 
silent  contempt  by  the  king's  council,  was  nevertheless  fruitful  in  results, 


308  JOHN    ADAMS. 

so  soon  as  the  people  having  heard,  took  it  upon  them  to  decide  it.  The 
judges  found  their  occupation  gone  ;  the  effort  of  the  parliament  to  retain 
the  bench  of  the  province  for  the  cause  of  the  crown,  reacted  upon  its  pro 
jectors,  and  the  second  blow  at  the  liberty  of  the  colonies  had  failed.  Mr. 
Adams,  as  the  projector  of  the  impeachment,  gained  greatly  in  reputation, 
and  was  set  down  by  king's  officers  at  home  and  in  England,  as  the  most 
able  and  dangerous  of  all  the  " rebels." 

With  the  closing  of  the  courts,  closed  as  well  the  first  epoch  of  the 
contest  between  the  king  and  the  colony  of  Massachusetts.  For  thirteen 
years  it  had  continued,  and  never,  during  that  time,  had  the  administration 
doubted  that  by  the  use  of  arts  and  finesse,  the  councils  of  the  colonies 
might  be  divided;  the  leaders  seduced  by  more  or  less  direct  bribes,  and, 

o  » 

finally,  the  people  be  wheedled  and  cajoled  into  submission.  Lord  North 
now  saw  his  mistake.  The  destruction  of  the  tea  in  Boston  harbor,  and  the 
contumacy  of  colonists  whenever  they  came  in  conflict  with  the  king's 
authority,  told  him  that  the  time  for  argument  had  passed,  and  he  must  now 
resort  to  sterner  measures.  The  king's  authority  must  be  established  at  any 
expense  of  money,  or  of  blood.  It  seems  strange,  in  looking  back,  that  it 
should  have  required  all  these  years  to  convince  the  administration  that  the 
people  of  Massachusetts  were  contending,  not  alone  for  the  righting  of 
specific  wrongs,  or  the  removal  of  given  impositions,  but  for  the  establish 
ment  of  principles,  and  against  the  fixing  of  precedents  which  must  prove 
destructive  to  their  liberties. 

As  a  result  of  this  tardy  recognition  of  the  truth,  came,  in  quick  suc 
cession,  the  Boston  port  bill,  the  revocation  of  the  charter  of  Massachu 
setts,  the  act  for  the  removal  of  certain  offenders  to  other  colonies,  or  to 
England,  for  trial,  the  appointment  of  Gage  as  military  governor,  and  the 
order  for  massing  troops  in  Boston.  In  other  words,  the  policy  of  intimida 
tion  and  punishment  had  been  fully  adopted.  With  this  policy,  disappeared 
from  the  councils  of  the  Massachusetts  patriots  the  last  doubtful  voice. 
Many  of  Hutchinson's  friends  followed  him  to  England;  those  who  remained 
were  cowed  and  silent  in  the  presence  of  the  people. 

There  came,  too,  with  these  severe  measures,  a  great  change  to  the  life 
of  Mr.  Adams.  He  had  before,  with  the  sole  exception  of  his  own  term 
in  the  house  of  representatives,  been  but  a  councillor  of  the  people ; 
thenceforth  he  was  to  be  a  leader.  He  had  determined  to  avoid  politics 
and  public  life,  and  devote  himself  to  his  profession,  that  he  might  provide 
for  himself,  his  wife,  and  children ;  now,  with  the  enforcement  of  these 
tyrannous  edicts,  courts  were  closed,  commerce  and  trade  cut  off,  and  he 
found  his  occupation  gone.  On  the  one  hand,  he  was  called  upon  to  face 
the  danger  of  loss  of  property,  loss  of  life,  or,  at  least,  outlawry,  in  the 
service  of  a  desperate  cause,  which  seemed  almost  foredoomed  to  failure 
and  destruction ;  on  the  other,  was  the  ignominy  of  retreat  in  the  face  of 


APPOINTED    DELEGATE    TO    THE    FIRST    CONGRESS.  309 

danger,  the  certainty  of  earning  the  contempt  of  his  fellows,  and  the 
reproval  of  his  own  conscience.  All  these  prospects  and  possibilities  he 
recognized,  but,  in  his  journals  and  correspondence,  we  look  in  vain  for  any 
symptom  of  wavering  or  timidity.  The  vital  moment  had  come,  and  he 
did  not  hesitate  to  cast  his  all  into  the  scale  of  liberty. 

When  met  at  Salem  the  last  general  court  of  Massachusetts  which 
pretended,  even  in  form,  to  recognize  the  authority  of  the  governor,  having 
been  banished  to  that  place  as  a  punishment  of  the  recalcitrant  citizens 
of  Boston,  every  patriot  in  the  colonies  looked  for  some  signal  action  from 
that  body,  in  the  direction  of  uniting  the  colonies  in  opposition  to  the 
high-handed  outrages  of  the  administration.  It  was  not  long  in  coming. 
On  the  i /th  day  of  June,  the  secretary  was  sent  to  the  general  court  with  a 
message  of  dissolution.  That  body  was  even  then  discussing  the  proposal 
to  send  a  delegation  to  meet  committees  of  other  colonies  at  Philadelphia; 
this  was  to  be  the  first  Continental  Congress,  but  it  had  not  yet  found  a 
name.  The  doors  were  closed  in  the  face  of  the  honorable  secretary,  and 
he  was  kept,  vainly  clamoring  without,  until  the  matter  was  concluded,  and 
five  gentlemen — Mr.  Bowdoin,  Air.  Gushing,  Mr.  Samuel  Adams,  Mr.  John 
Adams,  and  Mr.  Robert  Treat  Paine — had  been  appointed,  and  instructed 
to  attend  the  meeting.  Then  the  doors  were  opened,  and  the  empty  form 
of  dissolution  was  suffered  to  proceed. 

From  the  time  of  this  choice,  Mr.  Adams'  service  was  for  many  years 
almost  continuous,  yet  it  was  wider  and  more  important,  mingling  more 
with  affairs  of  commonly  recorded  and  familiar  history,  neither  demanding 
nor  permitting  so  minute  and  particular  account  as  has  been  given  of  his 
earlier  life,  and  the  services  which  he  gave  to  the  cause  of  liberty  within  his 
own  colony,  in  the  days  of  the  inception  and  growth  of  the  spirit  which  led 
to  the  great  Revolution.  Adams  usually  saw  farther  than  his  neighbors 
and  he  now  recognized  the  certainty  of  complications  more  serious  than 
any  the  colonies  had  ever  known,  and  the  probability  of  bloodshed.  He 
removed  his  family  to  Braintree  to  prepare,  as  he  said,  for  the  coming  storm. 
He  placed  his  affairs  in  the  best  condition  possible,  so  that  in  his  absence, 
longer  or  shorter,  his  family  might  be  provided  for,  then  was  ready  to  join 
his  fellows  in  their  pilgrimage  to  Philadelphia,  and  to  dedicate  his  prosper 
ity,  his  time,  even  life  itself,  to  the  cause  in  which  his  heart  was  so  ear 
nestly  engaged. 


JOHN   ADAMS. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

SERVICE    IN    CONGRESS. 

THE  duties  of  that  first  Continental  Congress,  and  the  responsibilities 
placed  upon  its  members,  were  most  peculiar  and  delicate.  The  path 
before  them  had  never  been  trodden ;  they  were  without  precedent  or 
authority  to  guide  them.  Appointed  by  the  people  represented  in  the 
various  colonial  legislatures,  as  a  result  of  the  impulse  to  do  something, 
which  always  arises  in  the  face  of  a  dangerous  emergency,  the  majority  of 
those  whom  they  went  to  represent  had  no  idea  as  to  what  that  some 
thing  should  be,  and,  among  those  who  had  formulated  a  policy  in  their 
own  minds,  there  was  the  widest  diversity  of  opinion.  The  colonies  were 
as  different  in  the  spirit  and  tendencies  of  their  people,  as  in  their  origin  ; 
nothing  but  a  common  peril,  of  the  greatest  moment,  could  ever  have 
brought  them  together  in  council,  and  they  looked  upon  each  other  with 
no  small  measure  of  distrust.  The  situation  of  Massachusetts  was  more 
doubtful  than  that  of  any  other  colony.  While  the  principle  upon  which 
the  contest  with  the  crown  arose  was  one  of  common  significance,  the 
specific  acts  of  oppression  which  had  aroused  the  colonies  were  almost 
entirely  confined  to  that  province.  It  had  been  the  sufferer,  and  its  dele 
gates  to  Philadelphia  went  from  a  people  without  courts  of  law,  without 
recognized  chartered  rights,  without  a  legal  existence,  from  the  standpoint 
of  the  crown.  They  went,  then,  rather  to  appeal  for  support  and  protec 
tion,  than  to  consult  with  their  neighbors  upon  a  common  footing  for  the 
common  welfare.  This  was,  of  course,  a  false  view,  and  it  did  not  ultimately 
prevail  to  such  a  degree  as  to  prevent  hearty  co-operation,  but  it  presented 
a  possibility  which  caused  much  anxiety  to  Adams  and  his  colleagues,  and 
to  the  tact,  caution,  and  sagacity,  which  they  displayed,  was  due  the  substan 
tial  unanimity  of  the  Congress.  There  was  still  another  weight  upon  the 
delegation.  There  existed  among  the  inhabitants  of  other  provinces  a 
prejudice  against  New  Englanders  in  general  and  especially  against  the 


SERVICE    IN    CONGRESS.  31  I 

citizens  of  Massachusetts.  Hawley,  a  warm  friend  and  admirer  of  Adams, 
writes  to  the  latter  warning  him  against  falling  into  the  error  attributed  to 
"the  Massachusetts  gentlemen,  and  especially  of  the  town  of  Boston,"  of 
assuming  to  dictate  and  take  the  lead  in  continental  matters.  This  report 
had  been  industriously  circulated,  in  advance,  by  certain  tories,  in  the  hope 
of  injuring  the  Massachusetts  delegation,  and  marring  the  harmony  of  the 
Congress. 

How  little  foundation  there  was  for  such  a  charge,  in  the  case  of  Mr. 

o      * 

Adams,  is  clearly  shown  in  a  letter  written  by  him  to  his  wife,  in  which  hj 
bewails  his  unavoidable  absence  from  Boston  during  the  weeks  immediately 
preceding  the  setting  out  of  the  delegation.  He  says:  "  If  I  was  there 
I  could  converse  with  the  gentlemen  who  are  bound  with  me  to  Phil 
adelphia.  I  could  turn  the  course  of  my  reading  and  studies  to  such  sub 
jects  of  law,  and  politics,  and  commerce  as  may  come  in  play  at  the  Con-. 
gress.  I  might  be  polishing  up  my  old  reading  in  law  and  history,  that 
I  might  appear  with  less  indecency  before  a  variety  of  gentlemen,  whose 
education,  travels,  experience,  family,  fortune,  and  everything,  will  give 
them  a  vast  superiority  to  me,  and,  I  fear,  even  to  some  of  my  companions." 
His  own  feelings  and  apprehensions  were  acutely  excited  by  the  situation  of 
his  country  and  the  prospect  of  the  doubtful  and  important  service  before 
him.  His  diary  is  full  of  passages  like  the  following,  expressive  of  his 
hopes  and  anxieties:  "I  wander  alone  and  ponder;  I  muse,  I  mope,  I 
ruminate;  lam  often  in  reveries  and  brown  studies.  The  objects  before 
me  are  too  grand  and  multifarious  for  my  comprehension.  \Yc  have  not 
men  fit  for  the  times.  \Ye  are  deficient  in  genius,  in  education,  in  travel,  in 
fortune,  in  everything.  I  feel  unutterable  anxiety.  God  grant  us  wisdom 
and  fortitude  !  Should  the  opposition  be  suppressed,  should  this  country 
submit,  what  infamy  and  ruin!  God  forbid!  Death  in  any  form  is  less 
terrible." 

On  the  loth  of  August  the  delegation,  less  Mr.  Bowdoin,  who  had 
asked  to  be  relieved  from  serving,  set  out  from  Boston  for  Philadelphia. 
Their  journey  was  an  ovation.  Throughout  Connecticut  the}'  were  met  by 
successive  delegations  and  escorted  from  town  to  town.  At  Hartford  and 
New  Haven  they  were  formally  entertained.  Arrived  at  New  York  the 
principal  citizens  vied  with  each  other  in  extending  courtesies.  In  New  Jer 
sey  there  was  almost  equal  cordiality — especially  at  Princeton.  Five  miles 
from  Philadelphia  they  were  met  by  a  committee  of  citizens  and  escorted  to 
their  quarters  in  that  town.  Much  of  this  interest  was,  in  fact,  spontaneous 
and  sincere,  but,  aside  from  such  patriotic  manifestation,  there  existed  curi 
osity,  fear,  doubt,  and  distrust.  In  Connecticut  there  was  less  of  all  this 
than  in  the  more  southerly  provinces.  New  York  was  one  of  the  most  aris 
tocratic  of  the  provinces;  the  prevailing  religion  was  of  the  Episcopal  form, 
and  fear  of  what  were  termed  the  "leveling  tendencies  of  New  England" 


312  JOHN    ADAMS. 

was  generally  entertained,  and  some  persons  did  not  hesitate  to  express  as 
much  to  the  delegates.  The  clergy  of  the  dominant  church,  necessarily  in 
close  sympathy  with  the  home  establishment,  formed  a  royalist  propaganda, 
which  had  drawn  with  it  many  prominent  among  the  laity.  Friends  in  New 
Jersey  warned  the  delegates  to  be  discreet  in  their  utterances  as  they  drew 
near  Philadelphia,  and  after  arriving  in  that  city ;  and  the  committee  which 
met  them  without  its  limits,  though  ostensibly  come  merely  to  extend  the 
civility  of  an  escort,  in  fact  desired  to  warn  them  against  any  display  of 
radical  sentiment,  saying  that,  by  some,  they  were  actually  suspected 
of  a  desire  to  compass  the  independence  of  the  colonies !  Even  Wash 
ington  was  disquieted  by  this  fear,  although  there  was  assuredly  small 
warrant  for  it  at  that  time.  It  will  be  readily  seen  from  all  this,  that  the 
mission  of  the  delegates  for  Massachusetts  was  one  of  the  greatest  delicacy. 
Mr.  Adams  wrote,  in  one  of  those  invaluable  confidential  letters  to  his  wife, 
"We  have  a  delicate  course  to  steer  between  too  much  activity  and  too 
much  insensibility  in  our  critical,  interested  situation.  I  flatter  myself, 
however,  that  we  shall  conduct  our  embassy  in  such  manner  as  to  merit  the 
approbation  of  our  country.  It  has  taken  much  time  to  get  acquainted  with 
the  tempers,  views,  characters,  and  designs  of  persons,  and  let  them  into 
the  circumstances  of  our  province." 

Early  in  the  session  of  the  Congress — before  it  had  committed  itself  to 
a  policy,  before  its  members  had  thrown  off  their  natural  timidity  and  dis 
trust,  and  become  sure  of  their  ground — in  some  way  there  arose  and  came 
to  Philadelphia  a  false  report  that  Gage  had  turned  his  cannon  upon  the 
town  of  Boston,  and  had  cruelly  murdered  a  large  number  of  its  people. 
If  ever  the  Lord  was  served  by  a  lie,  it  was  then.  The  excitement  pro 
duced  by  the  report,  acted  like  the  agitation  of  the  reagents  in  a  chemist's 
test  tube,  to  produce  crystallization.  Another  letter  to  Mrs.  Adams  tells  of 
its  effect:  "When  the  horrid  news, was  brought  here  of  the  bombardment 
of  Boston,  which  made  us  completely  miserable,  for  two  days,  we  saw 
proofs  of  the  sympathy  and  the  resolution  of  the  continent.  War !  war ! 
war !  was  the  cry,  and  it  was  pronounced  in  a  tone  that  would  have  done 
honor  to  the  oratory  of  a  Briton  or  a  Roman.  If  it  had  proved  true,  you 
would  have  heard  the  thunder  of  an  American  Congress." 

The  contradiction,  which  came  later,  was  not  in  time  to  undo  the  work. 
Massachusetts  was  recognized  ;  its  cause  was  declared  to  be  that  of  the 
colonies,  and  the  united  support  of  all  was  pledged.  Money  was  also 
promised  to  sustain  the  crippled  city  of  Boston,  until  the  common  represen 
tations  of  the  American  provinces  should  avail  to  change  for  the  better  the 
policy  of  Great  Britain.  Yet,  after  all  this  was  done,  events  moved  too 
slowly  to  please  the  Massachusetts  delegates;  they  were  placed  in  the 
difficult  position  of  men  vitally  interested  in  a  common  cause,  yet  com 
pelled  by  prudence  to  dissimulate  their  eagerness  "  The  art  and  address 


SERVICE    IN    CONGRESS.  313 

of  ambassadors  from  a  dozen  belligerent  powers  of  Europe, "  says  Adams, 
"nay,  of  a  conclave  of  cardinals  at  the  election  of  a  pope,  or  of  the  princes 
in  Germany,  at  the  choice  of  an  emperor,  would  not  exceed  the  specimens 
we  have  seen.  Yet  the  Congress  all  profess  the  same  political  principles ! 
They  all  profess  to  consider  our  province  as  suffering  in  a  common  cause; 
and,  indeed,  they  seem  to  feel  for  us  as  if  for  themselves. 
We  have  had  numberless  prejudices  to  remove  here.  We  have  been 
obliged  to  act  with  great  delicacy  and  caution.  We  have  been  obliged  to 
keep  ourselves  out  of  sight,  and  to  feel  pulses  and  to  sound  the  depths;  to 
insinuate  our  sentiments,  designs,  and  desires,  by  means  of  other  persons; 
sometimes  of  one  province,  sometimes  of  another. " 

Such  was  the  care  with  which  this  discreet  and  modest  course  was 
maintained,  that  the  Massachusetts  delegation,  instead  of  being  regarded  as 
radicals, — almost  as  incendiaries,  came  to  be  considered,  when  compared 
with  the  delegates  of  Virginia,  as  conservative,  almost  timid;  yet  they  were 
then,  as  was  their  colony,  later,  only  less  demonstrative,  not  less  brave  and 
devoted  than  were  their  southern  brethren.  Throughout  the  Congress, 
Massachusetts  preferred,  and  was  permitted,  to  remain  in  the  background. 
It  seemed  that  she,  as  the  colony  more  vitally  interested  than  any  other  in 
the  adoption  of  stringent  measures,  should  be  least  active  in  concerting  the 
policy  of  the  colonies.  The  delegates  from  that  province,  too,  instinctively 
felt  that  the  surest  way  to  enlist  the  sympathy  and,  more  important,  the 
active  support  of  the  sister  colonies,  was  to  surrender  to  their  representa 
tives  the  leading  places  in  the  legislative  and  committee  work  of  the  session. 
The  most  important  work  of  the  Congress  was  the  preparation  and  adop 
tion  of  a  bill  of  rights.  To  this  end  was  appointed  a  committee  consisting 
of  nearly  half  the  members,  and  including  both  the  Adamses  from  Massachu 
setts.  John  Adams  was  also  a  member  of  the  smaller  committee  appointed 
to  prepare  a  petition  to  the  king;  but  it  is  chiefly  in  the  drawing  of  the  bill 
of  rights  that  his  handiwork  may  be  seen.  From  the  inception  of  the  con 
test  in  Massachusetts,  when  he  drew  his  instructions  to  the  member  for 
Braintree,  he  had  been  constantly  laboring  to  induce  his  fellow-citizens  to 
base  their  arguments  upon  natural  rights,  and  to  deny  any  authority  of 
parliament  to  legislate  for  the  colonies,  and  any  right  of  the  king  himself 
not  literally  and  strictly  included  in  the  compact  implied  in  the  charter. 
When  arose  in  committee  the  important  question  as  to  how  much  should  be 
conceded  to  Great  Britain,  he  again  appeared  as  the  champion  of  his  opin 
ion,  which  all  must  now  be  convinced  was  the  only  true  one.  He  could  not 
carry  with  him  even  his  own  delegation  entire,  yet  the  resolution  finally 
adopted  was  his  own,  modified  to  a  degree,  to  meet  the  views  and  the 
prejudices  of  other  members  of  the  committee.  It  will  well  repay  quotation 
here : 

"  Resolved,  That  the  foundation  of  English  liberty,  and  of  all   free  gov- 


314  JOHN   ADAMS. 

eminent,  is  a  right  in  the  people  to  participate  in  their  legislative  council ; 
and  as  the  English  colonists  are  not  represented,  and  from  their  local  and 
other  circumstances,  cannot  be  properly  represented  in  the  British  parlia 
ment,  they  are  entitled  to  a  free  and  exclusive  power  of  legislation  in  their 
several  provincial  legislatures,  where  their  right  of  representation  can  alone 
be  preserved,  in  all  cases  of  taxation  and  internal  polity,  subject  only  to  the 
negative  of  their  sovereign,  in  such  manner  as  has  been  heretofore  used  and 
accustomed.  But,  from  the  necessity  of  the  case,  and  a  regard  for  the  mutual 
interests  of  both  countries,  we  cheerfully  consent  to  the  operation  of  such 
acts  of  parliament  as  are,  bona  fide,  restrained  to  the  regulation  of  our 
external  commerce,  for  the  purpose  of  securing  the  commercial  advantages 
of  the  whole  empire  to  the  mother  country,  and  the  commercial  benefits  of 
its  respective  members  ;  excluding  every  idea  of  taxation,  internal  or  exter 
nal,  for  raising  a  revenue  on  the  subjects  in  America  without  their  consent." 
Even  this  very  moderate  declaration  was  not  adopted  without  much 
doubt  and  some  strong  opposition.  Men  asked,  as  had  Hutchinson,  years 
before  :  "  What  is  this  but  independence  ?"  and  so  set  were  they  against 
the  fulfillment  of  their  manifest  destiny,  that  many  were  prepared  to  mourn 
the  hope  of  the  colonies  as  dead.  As  the  authorship  of  this  famous 
declaration  of  the  bill  of  rights  has  been  the  subject  of  some  question,  it 
may  be  well  to  quote  the  words  of  Mr.  Adams'  autobiography,  regarding  it. 
He  writes  :  ''After  several  days  deliberation,  we  agreed  upon  all  the  articles 
excepting  one,  and  that  was  the  authority  of  parliament,  which  was,  indeed, 
the  essence  of  the  whole  controversy  ;  some  were  for  a  flat  denial  of  all 
authority  ;  others  for  denying  the  power  of  taxation  only  ;  some  for  deny 
ing  internal,  but  admitting  external,  taxation.  After  a  multitude  of 
motions  had  been  made,  discussed,  and  negatived,  it  seemed  as  if  we  should 
never  agree  upon  anything.  Mr.  John  Rutledge,  of  South  Carolina, 
addressing  himself  to  me,  was  pleased  to  say :  '  Adams,  we  must  agree 
upon  something  ;  you  appear  to  be  as  familiar  with  the  subject  as  any  of  us, 
and  I  like  your  expressions, — "the  necessity  of  the  case"  and  "  excluding  all 
taxation,  external  and  internal"  ;  I  have  a  great  opinion  of  that  same  idea  of 
the  necessity  of  the  case,  and  I  am  determined  against  all  taxation  for 
revenue.  Gome,  take  the  pen,  and  see  if  you  cannot  produce  something 
that  will  unite  us.'  Some  others  of  the  committee  seconded  Mr.  Rutledge; 
I  took  a  sheet  of  paper  and  drew  up  an  article.  When  it  was  read,  I 
believe  not  one  of  the  committee  was  fully  satisfied  with  it ;  but  they  all 
soon  acknowledged  that  there  was  no  hope  of  hitting  on  anything,  in  which 
we  could  agree  with  more  satisfaction."  All  therefore  agreed  to  this,  and 
upon  this  depended  the  union  of  the  colonies.  The  sub-committee  reported 
their  draught  to  the  grand  committee,  and  another  long  debate  ensued,- 
especially  on  this  article ;  various  changes  and  modifications  in  it  were 


SERVICE    IN    CONGRESS.  315 

attempted,  but  none  accepted,  and  the  draught  was  reported   to   Congress, 
and,  after  a  second  debate,  was  adopted  and  promulgated. 

But  one  other  act  of  grave  importance  was  passed  by  the  first  Con 
gress  ; — that  the  adoption  of  the  non-importation,  non-exportation,  and 
non-consumption  agreement,  a  measure  which  was  based  upon  the  false 
assumption  that  the  loss  of  American  trade  meant  bankruptcy  for  Great 
Britain.  As  this  assumption  was  a  false  one,  little  practical  good  arose 
from  the  enforcement  of  the  resolution,  and  its  highest  result  was  the  bring 
ing  of  the  colonies  into  a  closer  confederation,  by  an  act  of  common  and 
serious  self-denial.  The  agreement  received  the  support  of  Adams,  but  he 
was  never  over-sanguine  as  to  its  efficiency.  The  refusal  of  Great  Britain 
to  make  any  concessions  ;  her  contrary  course  in  increasing  the  stringency 
of  her  measures,  are  matters  of  history,  and  do  not  call  for  discussion. 

The  Congress  had  been  important  to  Adams,  as  a  matter  of  education. 
He  was  tacitly  admitted  the  leader  of  the  Massachusetts  delegation ;  the 
interests  of  Massachusetts  overshadowed,  in  importance,  those  of  any  other 
colony;  hence  his  was  a  position  of  prominence,  and  he  found  himself,  from 
the  outset,  wielding  a  considerable  influence  in  the  deliberations  of  the 
national  legislature.  Instituted  to  consult,  the  Congress  was  much  less 
significant  in  expression  than  in  action,  the  evenly-balanced  and  penetrat 
ing  mind  of  the  future  diplomat  and  President,  could  not  escape  recog 
nition,  and  the  self-development  and  confidence  which  the  obvious  esteem 
of  others  always  produce.  Then,  too,  there  was  the  social  experience 
gained  by  life  in  Philadelphia,  then  the  gayest  and  most  polite  of  American 
cities.  Daily  calls  and  dinners,  constant  contact  with  all  that  was  polished, 
wise,  and  witty  in  the  civil  and  political  life  of  America,  did  wonders  in 
making  this  man  of  mind  and  ideas,  as  well  a  man  of  the  world. 

The  Congress  adjourned  on  the  26th  day  of  October,  1/74,  and  on  Fri 
day,  the  2cSth,  Mr.  Adams,  with  the  other  delegates  for  Massachusetts,  set 
out  for  home,  arriving  on  the  9th  of  November.  Scarcely  was  he  once 
more  domesticated  before  he  was  again  called  into  public  life,  by  a  resolution 
of  the  provincial  congress  requesting  his  attendance  upon  its  deliberations. 
This  was  followed  by  a  regular  election  to  membership  in  that  body,  which 
continued  until  its  dissolution.  On  the  I2th  of  December  appeared,  in  a 
Boston  journal,  an  able  paper  in  defense  of  the  royal  prerogative,  which 
caused  much  comment  and  filled  the  adherents  of  the  crown  with  delight. 
Who  the  writer  was,  no  one  in  the  patriot  councils  ever  certainly  ascer 
tained.  The  papers  were  published  over  the  signature  "  Massacliuscttt •;/ sis,' ' 
and  were  commonly  supposed  to  be  the  joint  production  of  Daniel  Leonard 
and  Jonathan  Scwall,  both  old  friends  of  Adams,  and  very  uncommon  men. 
Believing  that  much  harm  might  result  from  these  heresies,  should  they 
remain  unanswered,  Adams  entered  the  lists  and,  throughout  the  winter, 
bore  his  part,  over  the  name  "  Novanglus"  in  a  very  close  and  interesting 


31(5  JOHN    ADAMS. 

newspaper  controversy,  which  only  ended  on  the  igth  of  April,  1775. 
The  last  paper  \vas  prevented  from  appearing  by  the  beginning  of  hos 
tilities.  Mr.  Adams'  articles  afford  a.  better  view  of  the  legal  and  consti 
tutional  grounds  of  the  Revolution,  as  viewed  from  a  standpoint  within  his 
own  colony,  than  does  any  other  literature  of  the  day.  Lacking  in  polish 
and  elegance  of  diction  and  construction,  they  are  close,  well  considered, 
masterly  analyses  of  the  issues,  and  form  the  best  possible  rough  material 
for  the  philosophical  historian. 

In  the  affairs  at  Concord  and  Lexington  Adams  saw  the  passage  of  the 
Rubicon ;  he  saw  that  there  was  now  only  the  chance  of  a  successful  armed 
resistance,  disgraceful  subjugation,  or  death.  He  rode  over  the  field,  met 
General  Ward,  the  gallant  commander  of  the  mushroom  army  of  the  col 
onies,  and  returning,  was  attacked  with  a  fever,  but  so  big  with  events  was 
the  time,  that  he  would  not  permit  even  sickness  to  restrain  him,  and 
set  out  for  Philadelphia,  to  attend  the  second  Congress,  which  was  to  meet 
May  5th,  and,  although  the  journey  was  to  the  last  degree  painful,  over 
took  the  remainder  of  the  delegation,  and  reached  his  destination  on  the 
loth  day  of  May. 

The  salient  feature  of  this  Congress  was  the  proposal,  discussion,  and 
adoption  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence ;  its  most  important  legislation 
that  relating  to  the  organization,  equipment,  and  maintenance  of  an  army.* 
Adams  was  a  warm  advocate  of  the  declaration,  and,  when  the  question  of 
naming  a  commander  in  chief  for  the  army  threatened  to  arouse  sectional 
jealousy,  he,  the  leading  New  Englander,  poured  oil  upon  the  waters  by 
arising  in  his  place  and  moving  the  selection  of  George  Washington,  the 
foremost  Virginian,  for  that  post.  Soon  after  the  opening  of  Congress, 
Adams  wrote,  in  a  letter  to  his  wife,  that  the  Congress  had  business  to  keep 
it  through  the  year;  "no  assembly  ever  had  a  greater  number  of  great 
objects  before  them.  Provinces,  nations,  empires  are  small  things  before 
us.  I  wish  we  \vere  good  architects. "  Still  another  "  dutiful  and  humble 
petition"  was  prepared  and  sent  to  the  king,  against  the  judgment  and 
protest  of  Adams.  The  colonies  held  the  olive  branch  in  the  left,  a  flam 
ing  sword  in  the  right  hand.  Bunker  Hill  settled  all  doubt  once  for  all. 
From  that  time,  war,  long  a  certainty  to  Adams'  view,  was  as  obviously 
so  to  all.  Before  this  Washington  was  appointed  commander  in  chief,  and 
on  that  fateful  I7th  of  June  Adams  wrote  his  wife:  "I  can  now  inform 
you  that  the  Congress  have  made  choice  of  the  modest  and  virtuous,  the 
amiable,  generous,  and  brave  George  Washington,  Esquire,  to  be  general 
of  the  American  army,  and  that  he  is  to  repair,  as  soon  as  possible,  to  the 
camp  before  Boston.  This  appointment  will  have  a  great  effect  in  cement 
ing  and  securing  the  union  of  these  colonies.  The  continent  is  really  in 
earnest  in  defending  the  colonies.  .  .  .  .  I  begin  to  hope  we  shalJ 

*See  Biographies  of  Washington  and  Jefferson. 


SERVICE    IN    CONGRESS. 


317 


not  sit  all  summer.  I  hope  the  people  of  our  province  will  treat  the  general 
with  all  that  confidence  and  affection,  that  politeness  and  respect  which  is 
due  to  one  of  the  most  important  characters  in  the  world.  The  liberties  oi 
America  depend  upon  him  in  a  great  degree." 

Already  there  were  two  parties  in  Congress  ;  the  majority,  with  Dickin 
son  and  Hancock  as  leaders,  moderate,  conservative,  and  slow ;  the  minority, 
of  whom  the  Virginia  Lees  and  the  Massachusetts  Adamses  were  most 
prominent,  bent  upon  active  measures  which  assumed  the  feud  between  the 
king  and  the  colonies  to  be  irreconcilable.  Adams  could  ill  brook  the  dila 
tory  policy  of  the  former,  at  such  a  surpassingly  important  crisis.  He  wrote 
freely  to  his  wife  and  to  General  Warren,  criticising,  in  no  very  measured 
terms,  the  course  of  Dickinson  and  Hancock ;  these  letters  were  sent  by 
private  hands,  but  reached  General  Gage,  were  published  in  Boston,  the 
originals  were  sent  to  England  and  printed  copies  eventually  came  to 
Philadelphia.  Their  effect  in  England  was  to  mark  Adams  a.c  an  arch- 
traitor;  to  convince  the  ministry  that  there  existed  in  Massachusetts  a 
deep-seated  and  long-standing  determination  to  rebel  ;  to  procure  for  Penn, 
who  bore  the  latest  memorial  of  Congress,  the  sternest  rebuff.  In  Phila 
delphia,  Adams  was  avoided  on  the  street,  and  regarded  as  one  of  thos'3 
incendiaries  who  favored  independence;  hence  as  a  traitor!  There  exists 
in  history  no  greater  paradox  than  the  position  of  this  majority,  in  condemn 
ing  for  treason  those  whose  views  savored  of  independence,  while  main 
taining  an  organized  army  for  resistance  of  royal  authority. 

In  the  month  of  August,  Congress  adjourned  for  a  recess, — a  measure 
which  Adams  opposed,  and  he  returned  to  Boston,  and  spent  a  busy  month 
in  consultation  with  committees,  and  with  individuals,  including  the  com 
mander  in  chief.  The  middle  of  September  found  him  once  more  at  Philr- 
delphia,  engrossed  in  renewed  labor,  and  suffering  to  the  full  the  conse 
quences  of  the  publication  of  his  intercepted  letters.  His  name  was  omitted 
from  the  committees,  and  Massachusetts  was  neglected,  as  a  colon}'  c\ 
advanced  and  dangerous  ideas.  To  this  trouble  was  added  sad  anxiety  con 
cerning  his  family,  by  reason  of  a  malignant  and  fatal  epidemic,  which  ha'l 
broken  out  about  Boston.  The  mother  of  his  wife  and  a  female  servant,— 
an  inmate  of  his  household,— died  in  close  succession,  and  nearly  eveiv 
member  of  his  family  was  dangerously  ill. 

Soon  public  opinion,  in  and  out  of  the  Congress,  began  to  change: 
many  embraced,  more  looked  indulgently  upon  the  opinions  of  Mr.  Adams: 
he  was  appointed  upon  a  committee  to  carry  out  his  own  measure  for  thr 
organization  of  a  navy,  which  hastened  its  deliberations  and  soon  provided 
for  securing  the  nucleus  of  a  sea  armament.  The  most  important  measure 
came  from  Rhode  Island,  and  resulted  in  Congress  advising  the  colonies 
to  establish  governments  adequate  to  the  maintenance  of  order  and  the 
administration  of  affairs,  "during  the  continuance  of  the  present  difficulty." 


3l8  JOHN    ADAMS. 

This  Adams  fathered  and  actively  supported.  These  measures  would  very 
probably  have  been  defeated  but  for  the  arrival  of  news  of  the  king's  refusal 
to  receive  and  consider  the  memorial  of  Congress,  sent  by  the  hands  o] 
Perm.  The  ships  of  the  patriots  were  indeed  burned  behind  them,  and  only 
a  steady  and  determined  advance  could  save  the  colonies  from  hopeless 
subjugation. 

During  the  autumn  of  1775,  the  colony  of  Massachusetts,  which  had 
been  long  without  the  protection  of  organized  courts,  appointed  Mr.  Adams 
chief  justice,  advancing  him  over  many  of  his  seniors,  both  of  the  bencr 
and  bar.  After  much  consideration  he  determined  to  accept  the  post,  anc 
so  soon  as  an  adjournment  of  Congress  should  render  it  possible,  to  assum< 
its  duties.  He  sent  formal  notice  of  his  determination,  and,  as  the  autumr 
advanced,  and  there  seemed  no  prospect  for  an  adjournment,  decided  that 
both  for  the  sake  of  the  interest  of  his  province  and  that  of  the  confedera 
tion,  it  was  desirable  that  he  consult  with  the  prominent  men  of  Massa 
chusetts  in  person.  Hence  he  concluded,  for  a  time,  to  desert  his  seat  ir 
the  Congress  and  return  home.  Arrived,  he  found  that  he  had  been  choser 
a  member  of  the  council,  and  shortly  assumed  his  place  in  that  body.  Th< 
council  was  divided  between  its  desire  to  secure  to  the  court  the  benefit  o 
his  wisdom,  and  to  retain  his  services  in  Congress.  This  conflict  of  inclina 
tion  was  at  last  settled  by  arranging  that  the  court  should  proceed  withou 
him,  so  long  as  his  service  seemed  necessary  to  the  confederacy ;  tha 
during  the  intervals  of  such  service,  and  continuously  when  it  should  b< 
ended,  he  should  perform  his  judicial  duties.  It  is  well  to  here  state  tha 
he  never  found  the  opportunity  to  take  his  seat  upon  the  bench. 

During  the  time  of  his  stay  in  Massachusetts,  Adams  was  constantl) 
called  upon  for  counsel  in  most  weighty  affairs.  He  drew  with  his  own  hanc 
the  proclamation  which  inaugurated  the  new  provisional  government ;  gave 
his  private  advice  to  Washington  in  several  momentous  matters,  and  sat  ir 
one  council  of  war.  Finally,  the  general  council  unanimously  chose  him  tc 
represent  the  province  during  the  remainder  of  the  Congress,  thus  ratify 
ing  the  arrangement  by  which  his  assumption  of  the  judicial  robes  hac 
been  postponed.  The  new  election  was  accompanied  by  a  formal  letter  o 
instructions,  in  which  the  delegates  were  directed  to  use  their  efforts  tc 
"establish  liberty  on  a  permanent  basis  in  America."  Adams,  arrived  ir 
Philadelphia  on  the  pth  of  February,  1776,  found  the  Congress  sadly  lacking 
in  that  spirit  which  had  dictated  the  instructions  of  Massachusetts.  Partic 
ularly  were  the  delegates  of  New  York  and  the  other  Middle  states  depressec 
by  the  failure  of  pacific  measures,  and  alarmed  at  the  irresistible  tendency  o 
events  toward  independence  and  war. 

The  chief  business  of  the  Congress  during  the  remainder  of  the  sessior 
related  to  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  and  the  many  and  delicate  steps 
which  led  up  to  it.  Scanty  details  remain  of  all  these  processes,  but  cer- 


SERVICE    IX    CONGRESS. 


319 


tain  it  is  that  the  seeking  of  foreign  alliances  was  one  of  the  earliest,  and 
that  this  involved  the  sending  of  ambassadors  to  various  foreign  powers. 
Adams'  main  effort  seems  to  have  related  to  the  establishment  of  such 
foreign  relations  as  should  best  contribute  to  the  success  of  America  in  the 
war.  So  early  as  the  fall  of  1775,  he  had  concerted  with  Mr.  Chase,  of 
Maryland,  and  the  latter  had  presented,  a  resolution  providing  for  the 
appointment  of  envoys  to  certain  European  powers,  for  the  negotiation  of 
treaties.  The  exact  scope  of  this  proposed  measure  is  unknown.  We  only 
know  that  it  was,  to  use  his  own  expressive  language,  "  murdered,"  when 
put  upon  its  passage.  A  tendency  exhibited  itself  to  secure  an  alliance 
with  France,  by  the  bribe  of  the  exclusive  trade  of  America  and  large  grants 
of  territory.  Mr.  Patrick  Henry  was  advocate  of  this  policy,  and  Mr. 
Adams  one  of  its  strongest  opponents,  seeing  little  gain  in  a  mere  change 
of  masters,  especially  as  the  right  of  the  new  one  would  depend  directly 
upon  a  grant  made  for  good  consideration.  The  session  resulted  in  no  more 
decisive  steps  than  the  appointment  of  a  committee  to  correspond  with 
friends  of  America  in  Kngland,  Ireland,  and  other  parts  of  the  world.  The 
important  part  of  this  resolution  was,  as  Mr.  Charles  Francis  Adams  very 
justly  observes,  like  that  of  a  lady's  letter, — in  the  postscript. 

Already  during  the  latter  portion  of  the  year  1775,  Adams  had  been 
often  in  council  with  the  Lees,  Henry,  and  \Vythe,  as  to  the  framing  of 
a  form  of  government  for  Virginia.  Fspecial  clanger  to  popular  govern 
ment,  in  America,  existed  in  the  aristocratic  ideas  of  that  colony.  It  was 
proposed  to  establish  a  senate,  the  members  of  which  should  hold  office 
for  life,  and  there  was  there,  even  more  than  in  New  York,  a  dread  of  the 
"leveling  tendencies  of  New  Kngland."  The  men  with  whom  Adams 
was  intimate,  represented  the  cause  of  popular  government  in  Virginia, 
and  the  burthen  of  the  advice  sought  by  them,  was  as  to  means  of  foiling 
this  aristocratic  propaganda  in  that  colon}'.  Being  requested  to  reduce  his 
ideas  to  writing,  .Adams  did  so,  embodying  them  in  a  letter  to  Lee, 
which  was  passed  from  hand  to  hand  in  Virginia,  copied,  and  had  much 
effect  in  modifying  the  views  of  the  conservative  wing  of  the  part}',  and 
winning  the  majority,  by  which  a  popular  government  was  at  last  secured. 
A  copy  of  the  letter  found  its  way  to  Kngland,  and  into  the  hands  of  the 
ministry,  where  it  strengthened  the  idea  that  America  was  hopelessly  rebel 
lious,  and  that  Adams  was  an  arch  traitor. 

The  letter  to  Lee  was  later  supplemented  by  one  more  elaborate  to 
Wythe,  which  was  published  and  widely  circulated,  and  similar  ones  were 
sent  to  representative  men  in  other  southern  colonies.  Thus,  Adams  had 
a  very  considerable  influence  in  determining  the  course  of  at  least  two 
colonies,  Virginia  and  North  Carolina,  and  the  constitution  adopted  by  the 
latter,  surviving  until  1836,  was  the  longest  lived  of  any  framed  during  the 
Revolution.  Now  came  the  direct  agitation  of  the  independence  of  the 


32O  JOHN    ADAMS. 

United  States,  and  the  days  from  February  to  July  were  the  busiest  of 
Adams'  life.  He  was  an  active  pioneer  in  clearing  away  the  obstructions, 
prepared  to  defeat  the  great  advance.  He  served,  spoke,  thought,  and  wrote 
every  day,  and  many  a  night,  to  secure  the  instruction  of  delegations  in 
accordance  with  his  views,  or  at  least,  the  submission  of  the  matter  to  the 
discretion  of  delegates.  In  the  concerting  of  the  measures  which  led  to  the 
proposal  of  the  grand  declaration,  he  was  prominently  concerned ;  in  the 
debates  which  followed,  he  was  active  and  effective ;  in  the  delicate  and  dif 
ficult  labor  of  influencing  doubtful  and  reluctant  delegations,  during  the 
interval  allowed  for  discussion  and  consideration,  he  was  assiduous,  and  no 
one  was  more  delighted  than  he  at  the  final  triumph  of  the  measure,  which 
he  deemed  the  only  salvation  of  his  country.  He  served  on  the  committee, 
headed  by  Jefferson,  which  drew  the  declaration,  was  appointed  on  that 
named  to  negotiate  treaties  with  foreign  powers,  and  later  ones  for  framing 
a  plan  for  a  war  office  ;  to  devise  a  policy  as  to  persons  giving  aid  or 
information  to  the  enemy,  and  was,  from  time  to  time  during  the  session,  a 
member  of  ninety  committees,  and  at  the  head  of  no  less  than  twenty-five. 

When  Admiral  Lord  Howe  and  General  Sir  William  Howe  sent  their 
famous  message  to  Congress,  representing  themselves  as  commissioners  to 
arrange  an  accommodation  of  differences,  they  sent  notice,  as  will  be 
remembered,  of  a  desire  to  meet  certain  members  of  the  Congress,  not 
officially,  but  as  prominent  citizens  of  the  colonies,  saying,  at  the  same 
time,  that,  should  they  come  to  any  accommodation  with  them,  the  ratifica 
tion  of  Congress  would  be  deemed  sufficient.  A  committee  was  appointed 
to  this  end,  charged,  also,  with  the  duty  of  inquiring  into  the  state  of  the 
army  in  New  York,  and,  upon  this,  Adams  reluctantly  consented  to  serve. 
The  abortive  result  of  Howe's  mission,  has  already  been  stated  ;  the  second 
duty  of  the  committee  was  important  to  Adams  as  bringing  him  into  closer 
relations  and  familiarity  with  the  army  and  its  commander  in  chief,  which, 
as  he  was  president  of  the  board  of  war,  was  peculiarly  desirable. 

In  the  meantime  the  erection  of  a  well  considered  and  consistent  foreign 
policy  was  occupying  much  of  the  attention  of  the  best  thinkers.  The  secret 
committee  of  correspondence,  the  appointment  of  which  has  been  men 
tioned  in  these  pages,  had  gone  no  further  than  to  appoint  Silas  Deane  as  a 
secret  agent  of  the  United  States,  to  go,  first  to  the  French  West  Indies, 
later  to  France,  to  solicit  aid  from  individuals,  and  to  sound  the  govern 
ment  as  to  its  inclinations.  The  committee  upon  foreign  relations,  appointed 
about  the  time  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  found  very  serious 
duties.  From  the  chaos  of  errors,  doubt  and  conflict,  it  was  to  devise  a 
system,  and  at  least  two  of  its  members — Adams  and  Franklin — felt  the 
overwhelming  importance  of  securing,  at  a  cost  of  no  concession  which 
should  afterward  prove  damaging  and  burthensome,  alliance  with  foreign 
powers  sufficient  to  carry  the  colonies  to  the  establishment  of  their  ends  by 


SERVICE    IN    CONGRESS.  321 

the  mere  moral  force  of  recognition.  Adams  had,  early  in  his  congressional 
service,  avowed  his  unalterable  aversion  to  foreign  alliances  or  complications 
beyond  those  purely  commercial.  Previous  to  Lord  Howe's  mission,  in 
conjunction  with  Franklin,  he  proposed  a  scheme  for  alliances  in  Europe, 
going  no  further  than  this.  Upon  submission  to  Congress,  many  members 
feared  that  the  powers  proposed  would  not  enable  envoys  to  tempt  any 
first-class  power  into  a  treaty  and  amendments  were  offered,  considerably 
extending  the  provisions  recommended  in  the  original  report.  These  were 
supplemented,  during  Adams'  absence  at  the  conference  of  Lord  Howe 
and  at  Washington's  headquarters,  by  a  resolution  empowering  the  com 
mittee  to  propose  additional  instructions  for  the  envoy,  and  these  instruc 
tions  were  adopted  during  his  absence  and  without  his  participation.  They 
were  framed  under  what  was  deemed  to  be  an  immediate  necessity  for  aid, 
and  opened  the  way  for  evils  which  bore  fruit  during  the  second  adminis 
tration  of  Washington,  and  that  of  Adams,  in  misunderstandings  with  that 
Republican  France,  which  succeeded  to  the  rights  of  Louis  XVI. ,  as  does 
the  highwayman  to  the  watch  of  his  victim,  and  so  nearly  resulted  in  war. 
One  further  collateral  matter  must  be  mentioned,  that  future  events 
may  be  understood.  Shortly  before  this  time,  Dr.  Arthur  Lee,  an  ardent 
American  patriot  resident  in  London,  had  unwisely  written  Dr.  Franklin  a 
letter  (cloaked  in  the  pretence  of  being  an  anonymous  communication  with 
the  loyalist  lieutenant-governor,  Colden),  in  which  it  was  intimated  that  two 
members  of  the  secret  committee,  Jay  and  Dickinson,  were  secretly  in  sym 
pathy  with  Great  Britain,  and  that  the  safety  and  well-being  of  America 
demanded  that  they  be  replaced  by  such  men  as  the  Adamses.  Though 
this  letter  was  sent  by  Dr.  Lee  under  injunctions  that  it  be  shown  to  no  one 
but  Richard  Henry  Lee,  his  brother,  its  contents  leaked  out,  and  showed  a 
decided  effect  upon  the  action  of  Congress  in  naming  a  commission  to  treat 
with  France,  besides  later  resulting  in  serious  disagreements  between  Frank 
lin  and  Lee. 

Congress,  in  balloting  for  members  of  this  commission,  chose  first 
Franklin,  then  Jefferson  ;  Jefferson  declining,  Dr.  Lee  was  substituted,  and 
Adams  was  urged  to  take  the  third  place.  This  he  refused  to  do,  and  Silas 
Deane,  of  Connecticut,  was  named.  It  is  worthy  of  notice  that  the  last- 
mentioned  is  Uie  only  one  of  all  the  diplomatic  appointments  of  the  new 
and  inexperienced  Congress,  of  an  untried,  and  unrecognized  government, 
which  proved  unfortunate.  His  head  was  turned  by  scheming  agents  of  the 
French  government,  by  sycophants,  and  adventurers,  and  he  first  made  a 
series  of  unwise,  unauthorized,  and  embarrassing  contracts  with  foreign 
military  adventurers,  of  which  class  Con  way  is  an  example,  and  ended 
by  playing  flatterer  to  Franklin,  against  which  influence  "Poor  Richard" 
was  by  no  means  proof,  and,  misrepresenting  Lee,  until  the  jealousy  excited 
resulted  in  enmity,  and  well  nigh  wrecked  the  commission. 


322  JOHN    ADAMS. 

The  remainder  of  Adams'  career  in  Congress  cannot  be  minutely  treated 
without  re-writing  the  history  of  the  war  of  the  Revolution,  embodied  in  the 
biography  of  Washington.  It  was  the  era  of  the  direct  conduct  of  the  war 
by  Congress,  through  a  board  of  war,  appointed  from  its  own  member 
ship.  Adams,  as  president  of  this  board,  was  constantly  immersed  in  military 
affairs.  He  did  himself  as  much  justice  as  could  be  expected  from  the 
wisest  agent  of  so  pernicious  a  military  system.  He  was  not  a  soldier,  in 
theory  or  practice,  and  was  inclined  to  be  unduly  elated  by  victories  and 
depressed  by  defeats.  One  might  almost  judge  of  the  fortune  of  the  war 
by  the  tone  of  his  letters,  even  when  the  subject  is  not  mentioned.  Some 
times  he  narrowly  escaped  being  ridiculous,  as  when  he  wrote  his  friend 
Warren  that  he  had  expected  two  or  three  Bunker  hills,  between  Long 
island  and  Trenton.  Knowing  what  he  did  of  the  opposing  armies,  such  a 
statement  is  either  a  deliberate  extravagance,  or  an  indication  of  bad 
judgment. 

Nevertheless,  Adams  did  very  valuable  service  in  the  board  of  war. 
He  labored  hard  to  induce  the  colonies,  particularly  his  own,  to  do  their 
duty.  He  had  a  sensitive  pride  in  Massachusetts,  and  desired,  above  all 
things,  that  she  do  herself  credit.  He  was  stung  by  the  bad  behavior  of 
the  New  England  troops,  upon  the  occasion  of  Howe's  attack  on  New  York, 
and  his  very  pride  led  him  bitterly  to  demand,  "Are  there  no  cowards 
south  of  New  England?"  Probably  no  other  man  in  the  Congress  so  con 
stantly  and  effectively  exerted  himself  for  the  securing  and  maintenance  of 
an  efficiently  organized  army,  as  did  he.  It  is  strange  that,  having  so  much 
experience  with  the  tardiness  and  evasion  of  various  colonies,  he  never  saw 
the  fatal  weakness  of  the  plan  of  confederation,  involved  in  the  absence  of 
a  competent  central  authority,  but  certain  it  is  that,  when  the  scheme  came 
before  Congress,  and  was  pushed  to  adoption,  it  was  done  very  largely 
through  his  instrumentality. 

With  a  bare  summary,  this  overlong  chapter  must  close.  On  the  1st 
day  of  October,  1776,  Adams  introduced  a  resolution  for  the  establishment 
of  a  naval  academy.  This  plan,  as  afterward  elaborated  by  Hamilton,  and  ap 
proved  by  Washington,  was  carried  into  effect,  during  his  own  administration. 
On  the  1 3th  of  the  same  month  he  obtained  leave  of  absence  to  return  to 
his  home,  where  he  was  called  by  pressing  family  and  business  matters.  He 
there  remained  until  the  gih  of  January,  when  he  set  out  for  Baltimore, 
which  was  the  temporary  seat  of  government,  arriving  in  that  place  on  the 
ist  of  February.  During  his  stay  at  home  he  discovered  that  the  courts  of 
the  state  were  moving  smoothly,  and  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  people  ;  the 
judges  were  honest  and  able,  and,  not  caring  longer  to  pose  as  the  holder  of 
a  sinecure,  he  resigned  the  judgeship  which  he  had  accepted  during  the  pre 
vious  year.  After  his  arrival  at  Philadelphia,  he  settled  once  more  to  his 
hard  work  upon  the  board  of  war,  and  numerous  committees.  He  was,  as 


SERVICE    IN    CONGRESS.  32} 

always,  sagacious,  wise,  and  indefatigable.  The  question  of  the  confedera 
tion  coming  up,  he  gave  it  his  utmost  influence  and  support,  and  pushed  it 
to  an  adoption.  Then  came  the  victory  over  Burgoyne,  the  relinquishment 
of  Clinton's  campaign  against  the  North,  and  the  end  of  the  war  in  that 
quarter. 

Adams  now  resolved  to  leave  Congress,  for  a  time,  if  not  permanently. 
He  had  embarked  in  the  service  of  his  country,  to  the  infinite  detriment  of 
his  private  interests,  with  a  determination  to  do  his  utmost  for  the  accom 
plishment  of  two  results — the  independence,  and  the  confederation  of  the 
colonies.  The  latter  had  been  effected ;  the  former  was  declared,  and  he, 
in  common  with  many  others,  overestimating  the  immediate  influence  of  the 
defeat  of  Burgoyne,  considered  its  establishment  to  be  near  at  hand.  His 
family  had  been  long  alone,  his  business  had,  of  course,  ceased  with 
his  absence,  and  he,  a  poor  man,  could  ill  afford  its  total  loss.  Hence 
he  sent  in  his  resignation  upon  the  Qth  day  of  November,  1777,  and  set  out 
for  home,  little  thinking  that  the  decisive  battle  of  the  war  was  yet  nearly 
four  years  distant,  and  that  the  most  important  of  his  public  service  was 
before  him,  instead  of  being  already  passed. 


324  JOHN   ADAMS. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  TWO  MISSIONS  TO  FRANCE. 

CARCELY  had  Adams  set  out  upon  his  homeward  way,  rejoicing  in 
his  newly  acquired  freedom,  when  arose  in  Congress  the  emergency 
which  was  to  compel  its  relinquishment.  The  many  contracts  made  by 
Silas  Deane  had  brought  to  America  a  number  of  soldiers  of  fortune  of 
more  or  less  ability  and  character,  holding  that  erratic  diplomat's  promises 
of  rank  and  pay,  and  so  annoyed  was  Congress  by  the  complications  result 
ing,  that  Mr.  Deane's  recall  was  sounded,  and  Mr.  Adams  was,  without  his 
knowledge,  made  a  candidate  for  the  post,  and  chosen  against  Robert 
Livingston.  The  message  announcing  this  fact  followed  him  closely,  and 
was  accompanied  by  most  urgent  letters  from  many  friends,  urging  the 
infirmity  of  Franklin,  the  surpassing  importance  of  having  one  discreet 
and  honest  man  in  France,  and  the  vital  necessity  of  closing  an  alliance 
upon  favorable  grounds,  as  reasons  why  he  should  accept  the  place.  These 
considerations,  added  to  the  pleasant  prospect  of  being  able  to  apply  his 
principles  regarding  foreign  affairs,  induced  Adams  to  abandon  the  law 
practice,  which  he  had  resumed,  and  again  assume  the  galling  cares  of  office. 
He  sailed  from  Boston  February  13,  1778,  accompanied  by  his  eldest  son, 
John  Quincy  Adams,  a  lad  of  ten  years ;  his  vessel  out-ran  a  British 
cruiser,  fought  and  captured  a  British  privateer,  and  weathered  a  storm. 
Upon  landing,  he  was  received  with  honors,  and  proceeded  to  Paris,  where 
he  arrived  April  8,  1778. 

The  news  which  met  him  was,  to  his  view,  far  from  encouraging.  A 
treaty  had  been  closed  during  the  preceding  February,  which  purchased 
America  the  assistance  of  France,  but  at  the  cost  of  an  alliance,  offensive 
and  defensive,  and  a  guaranty  to  France  of  territorial  integrity  in  America. 
Adams,  even  admitting  the  inadequacy  of  a  purely  commercial  treaty  to 
accomplish  the  results  gained  by  this,  could  not  but  fear  that  complications 
might  result  quite  uncontemplated  by  its  framers.  The  events  of  twenty 
years  later  quite  justified  this  fear. 


THE    TWO    MISSIONS    TO    FRANCE.  325 

The  nature  of  the  treaty  was  not,  however,  his  only  or  most  imme 
diate  cause  of  disquiet.  The  relation  of  the  American  envoys  in  France 
was  such  as  to  bring  discredit  upon  the  United  States.  Deane,  with  his 
surrounding  of  toadies,  had  become  dissatisfied  with  the  conduct  of  Dr. 
Arthur  Lee  and  his  brother,  William  Lee,  both  of  whom  thoroughly  dis 
trusted  and  cordially  disliked  the  weak-headed  Connecticut  envoy.  Deane 
had  worked  upon  the  vanity  and  prejudices  of  Franklin  and  the  natural 
suspicions  of  the  Count  de  Vergennes,  until  he  had  won  them  both  to  hi? 
opinion,  and  the  Count  actually  requested  that  Lee,  an  envoy  duly  accred 
ited  by  the  United  States,  be  kept  in  ignorance  of  transactions  in  which  his 
colleague  and  the  American  minister  plenipotentiary  took  part!  It  will 
readily  be  conceived  that  Adams  was  most  uncomfortably  placed.  He  had 
a  very  high  respect  for  Franklin,  a  sincere  regard  for  the  Lees,  and  knew 
at  that  time  no  reason  why  he  should  not  respect  the  character,  if  not  the 
wisdom,  of  Deane.  He  determined,  then,  to  maintain  his  neutrality,  and, 
at  the  same  time,  to  use  his  influence,  so  far  as  possible,  for  the  restoration 
of  harmony  among  his  colleagues.  In  the  latter  he  was  not  successful,  but 
his  own  attitude,  and  his  effort  for  the  pacification  of  his  warring  country 
men,  met  the  approval  and  the  public  commendation  of  the  Count  de  Ver 
gennes. 

It  was,  from  the  first,  evident  to  Adams  that  the  settlement  of  treaty 
terms  had  anticipated  his  mission,  and  that  his  usefulness  in  Europe  was 
more  than  questionable.  lie,  however,  possessed  his  soul  in  patience  for  a 
time,  awaiting  an  answer  to  his  request  for  instructions.  Pending  this  he 
devoted  himself  to  systematizing  the  business  of  the  consular  service, 
reducing  its  records  to  order,  and  conducting  an  extensive  correspondence 
with  various  prominent  men  in  private  and  official  life,  with  a  view  to  per 
fecting  himself  in  knowledge  of  European  affairs.  The  result  of  his  obser 
vation  was  reduced  to  writing,  and  published  after  his  return  to  America. 
Inactivity  was  foreign  to  Adams'  character,  and,  after  chafing  under  the 
necessity  of  a  comparatively  idle  life  for  some  time,  he  at  last  determined, 
against  the  advice  of  Franklin,  to  act  for  himself,  since  he  seemed  forgot 
ten  by  Congress,  and  embarked,  on  the  ijth  of  June,  1779,  in  a  French 
frigate,  which  reached  Boston  August  2cl.  He  felt  very  much  dissatis 
fied  with  the  results  of  his  long  foreign  stay,  which  were  represented,  to 
his  mind,  only  by  the  division  of  the  strictly  diplomatic  from  the  com 
mercial  service  abroad,  the  transfer  of  Arthur  Lee  as  minister  to  Madrid, 
and  the  appointment  of  an  American  consul  general  to  France.  There  had 
been  some  reason  for  the  failure  of  Congress  to  pay  proper  attention  to  his 
request  for  instructions,  for  that  body  had  been  sufficiently  harassed  in  the 
effort  to  pay  an  army  from  an  empty  treasury ;  to  increase  it,  with  a  pros 
trate  credit ;  to  settle  the  quarrels  of  the  diplomats  and  the  complications 


326  JOHN    ADAMS. 

arising  at  home,  by  reason  of  the  Conway  cabal.      Adams  forwarded   his 
report  and  once  more  sought  his  home. 

Again  his  native  province  claimed  his  service,  and  he  was  elected  rep- 
resentative  for  Braintree,  in  the  general  assembly  of  Massachusetts.  That 
colony  had  been  making  shift,  since  the  outbreak  of  hostilities,  to  live  under 
a  provisional  government,  and  had  procured  no  substitute  for  the  charter 
granted  by  William  and  Mary  at  the  institution  of  the  province.  It  was 
the  office  of  the  newly  elected  legislature  to  frame  a  new  constitution,  and 
there  existed  so  decided  differences,  throughout  the  province,  as  to  endanger 
the  harmony  of  the  session.  One  party,  headed  by  Bowdoin,  demanded  a 
recognition  of  property  as  a  basis  of  representation ;  the  other,  headed  by 
Samuel  Adams,  was  extremely  democratic.  John  Adams  was  not  coir, 
mitted  to  either  party,  and  favored  a  middle  course.  He  succeeded  in 
obtaining  a  resolution  of  the  assembly,  declaring  in  favor  of  a  republican 
government,  administered  by,officers  chosen  by  the  people.  A  committee 
of  thirty-two  members  was  then  appointed,  to  make  and  prepare  a  draft  of 
a  constitution ;  this  committee  appointed  a  smaller  one,  and  the  latter 
placed  the  whole  matter  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  Adams.  He  drew  a  constitu 
tion  which  harmonized  the  parties,  receiving  the  hearty  support  of  each, 
and  placed  the  machinery  of  the  province,  for  the  first  time,  in  running 
order.  In  the  meantime  Congress  was  striving  for  the  solution  of  the  vexa 
tious  questions  relating  to  the  foreign  diplomacy  of  the  United  States,  and 
a  resolution  was  drawn,  intended  to  cut  the  gordian  knot,  by  revoking  the 
commissions  of  all  ministers  and  envoys.  Adams  having  come  home  upon 
his  own  motion,  still  held  a  commission,  and  was  necessarily  included  within 
the  operation  of  the  act.  As  the  resolution  named  the  officers  categori 
cally,  it  was  moved  by  his  friends  that  each  name  be  voted  upon  sepa 
rately,  and  the  result  was  the  exception  of  Franklin  and  Adams  from  its 
operation. 

Pending  the  discussion,  arrived  M.  Gerrard,  accredited  by  Versailles  to 
the  United  States.  One  of  his  first  official  acts  was  to  propose  the  med 
iation  of  Spain  between  Great  Britain  and  the  United  States.  This  pro 
posal  was  eagerly  considered  by  Congress,  the  discussion  being  defined  only 
by  a  desire  that  any  treaty  made  should  guarantee  to  America :  First,  inde 
pendence.  Second,  a  just  settlement  of  boundaries.  Third,  the  protection 
of  the  fisheries.  Fourth,  the  free  navigation  of  the  Mississippi.  The  French 
ambassador  desired  nothing  so  much  as  to  free  the  negotiation  from  any 
other  condition  than  that  of  the  independence.  He  set  himself  very  skillfully 
to  work  to  procure  the  removal  of  these  restrictions,  one  of  which, — that  re 
garding  the  Mississippi, — was  particularly  distasteful  both  to  France  and 
Spain.  This  first  gave  way,  and,  later,  he  obtained  the  withdrawal  also  of  the 
condition  as  to  the  fisheries,  but  only  with  the  understanding  that  America 
should  be  at  liberty  .o  attempt  an  independent  negotiation  with  Grea* 


THE    TWO    MISSIONS    TO    FRANCE. 


327 


Britain.  These  important  steps — the  most  important  since  the  declaration 
of  independence, — rendered  necessary,  first,  the  filling  of  the  vacant  minis 
terial  post  at  Madrid,  by  a  very  able  man,  and,  second,  the  appointment  of 
one,  if  possible,  more  able,  as  envoy  extraordinary  to  negotiate  directly  with 
Great  Britain.  Both  Adams  and  Jay  were  urged  for  the  latter  place,  but 
New  England  would  not  consider  the  name  of  Jay,  for  the  reason  of  his 
real  or  imaginary  lukewarmness  in  the  matter  of  the  fisheries,  and,  hence, 
Adams  received  the  appointment  to  that  post,  while  Jay  was  accredited  to 
the  court  of  Spain.  Adams'  commissions,  empowering  him  to  negotiate 
distinct  treaties  of  peace  and  commerce,  bore  date  October  20,  I//9,  and, 
on  the  i  3th  of  November,  of  the  same  year,  again  accompanied  by  his  son, 
John  Ouincy  Adams,  he  set  sail,  and,  duly  arriving  in  Paris,  presented  his 
credentials. 

It  \\as,  of  course,  necessary  for  him  to  establish  himself  in  friendly 
territory  and  watch  his  opportunity  to  open  communication  with  Great 
Britain.  The  vexations  and  delays  which  attended  his  vain  effort  can  not 
be  minutely  related  here.  It  was  no  part  of  the  plan  of  the  crafty  Count 
de  Vergennes  to  permit  of  the  negotiation  of  a  peace  to  which  France 
should  not  be  directly  or  indirectly  a  part}',  to  her  own  profit.  Hence,  he 
threw  constant  obstacles  in  the  way  of  the  envoy,  all  covered  by  a  mask  of 
polite  solicitude. 

It  is  well  to  state  before  entering  upon  the  brief  relation  of  the  circum 
stances  attending  Mr.  Adams'  mission,  that  documentary  evidence  exists  in 
great  abundance  to  prove  that  France,  though  her  "disinterested  succor"  of 
the  United  States  has  been  made  the  toast  at  so  many  banquets  for  this 
century  and  more,  was,  in  fact,  not  in  the  slightest  degree  disinterested. 
She  would  not  have  ended  the  war  a  year  sooner  than  1781,  could  it  have 
been  done  with  honor  and  success.  She  had  her  private  reasons  for  desir 
ing  to  withdraw  troops  from  Furope,  at  that  particular  time,  and,  beyond 
this  fact,  had  no  other  interest  in  the  conflict  than  that  which  arose  from 
the  double  willingness  to  cripple  her  natural  enemy  and  to  open  the  way  for 
possible  gain  to  herself.  Adams  estimated  rightly,  when  he  held  that  the 
faith  of  France  could  be  relied  upon  just  so  far  as  her  interests  and  those  of 
America  coincided — beyond  that,  not  at  all. 

Vergennes  saw  in  Adams'  embassy  the  possibility  of  purchasing  a  peace 
by  offering  exclusive  trade  to  Knglancl,  and  thus  leaving  France  out  of  the 
affair;  he  distrusted  the  Lees,  and,  knowing  Adams  to  be  their  friend,  dis 
trusted  him  as  well,  and,  when  applied  to  to  open  a  way  for  notifying  Fng- 
land  of  the  mission,  refused  to  grant  it,  and  set  every  means  at  work  to 
procure  a  reconsideration  of  .America's  determination.  In  the  meantime, 
Adams  was  courteously  received  as  one  empowered  to  assist  in  an}-  negotia 
tions  for  peace,  which  might  be  opened  through  other  channels.  Though 
thus  practically  without  a  mission,  Adams  did  not  waste  time,  but  began 


328  JOHN    ADAMS. 

a  series  of  communications  to  the  press,  intended  to  dispel  the  preva 
lent  ignorance  on  the  subject  of  the  situation  and  resources  of  America. 
He  also  bent  his  efforts  in  conversation  with  the  most  intelligent  people  in 
the  French  capital,  to  the  same  end,  and  soon  received  an  intimation  from 
Vergennes,  that  the  latter  would  be  glad  to  receive  any  information  he 
might  have  to  convey.  Taking  this  to  be  quite  as  much  a  direction  as  a 
request,  he  sent  the  minister  newspapers  and  extracts  from  letters,  which 
were  acknowledged,  with  a  request  for  more.  Among  the  matter  later 
sent,  was  a  portion  of  a  letter  from  Adams'  brother-in-law,  in  which  he 
referred  to  a  proposal  of  Congress  to  redeem  the  emissions  of  continental 
currency,  by  the  payment  of  one  dollar  in  silver  for  forty  in  paper.  This 
was  made  clear  by  a  subsequent  letter  dispatched  by  Adams  to  the  min 
ister,  explaining  the  difference  between  the  domestic  currency  referred 
to,  and  loan  certificates,  many  of  which  were  held  by  French  creditors 
of  the  United  States.  Before  the  receipt  of  this  second  letter,  Ver 
gennes,  in  great  excitement,  called  upon  Adams,  upon  whom  he  had 
no  official  claim,  to  use  his  efforts  for  the  prevention  of  such  partial  repu 
diation.  Adams  could  not  well  keep  silence,  thus  apparently  confirming 
Vergennes'  erroneous  impression,  and  hence  replied  with  a  full  explana 
tion.  The  minister,  probably  finding  himself  in  error,  was  irritated,  and 
denounced  the  communication  and  the  former  transmissions  of  intelligence 
as  gratuitous  and  impertinent,  as  if  they  had  been  voluntary  and  not 
expressly  requested  by  himself.  He  avowed  a  design  to  communicate  to 
Congress,  through  the  minister  of  France,  his  objection  to  the  proposed 
measure,  and,  when  Adams  procured  Franklin  to  suggest  a  delay  of  such 
action  until  the  matter  could  be  more  fully  discussed,  repelled  this  suggestion 
and  criticised  Adams, — as  he  did  later  to  Congress, — for  interfering  in  the 
affair.  Franklin  was  probably  a  little  piqued  at  Adams'  course,  for  he 
went  out  of  his  way  to  say  that  he  was  not  responsible  for  the  latter's  action, 
and,  when  he  drew  a  report  to  Congress,  made  no  effort  to  set  him  right. 
Congress,  however,  did  not  regard  Adams'  action  as  worthy  of  condemna 
tion,  but,  on  the  contrary,  passed  a  resolution  expressing  its  approval  and 
thanks.  In  spite  of  all  these  facts,  well  recognized  at  the  time,  there  has 
been  a  tendency  to  charge  him  with  having  gratuitously  provoked  a  contest 
with  the  French  minister. 

Once  more  Adams  proposed  to  Vergennes  the  opening  of  communica 
tion  with  England,  urging  the  existence  of  a  popular  discontent  in  that  coun 
try,  which,  in  the  event  of  a  failure  to  properly  consider  his  proposals,  might 
well  result  in  overturning  the  ministry  of  Lord  North ;  again  he  met  a 
rebuff,  accompanied  by  a  threat  to  appeal  to  Congress,  should  he  persist  in 
endeavoring  to  carry  the  plan  into  effect.  He  asked  permission  to  go  to 
Holland,  desiring  to  open  certain  financial  negotiations  in  that  country. 
This,  too,  was  refused.  The  menace  of  Vergennes  was  uncalled  for,  ill-timed, 


THE    TWO    MISSIONS    TO    FRANCE. 


329 


and  directed  at  a  man  so  secure  in  the  sense  of  his  own  integrity,  that  he 
was  not  to  be  in  any  manner  intimidated.  It  drew  from  him  a  manly,  full, 
and  convincing  statement  of  the  condition  of  affairs  in  America,  upon  which 
was  predicated  the  statement  that  his  countrymen  would  scarcely  forgive  a 
failure  to  embrace  any  opportunity  for  an  honorable  peace,  consistent  with 
treaty  obligations.  Vergennes  found,  to  his  surprise,  that  he  had  encoun 
tered  a  man  who  would  not  be  subservient,  even  to  the  representative  of  the 
crown  of  France.  France  was,  at  that  time,  more  than  inclined  to  favor 
u  long  truce,  rather  than  the  recognition  of  independence,  as  the  basis  of 
negotiation  between  England  and  America.  Franklin  had  countenanced 
the  idea,  and  the  French  alliance  for  a  time  bade  fair  to  defeat,  rather  than 
to  forward,  its  original  purpose. 

Having  at  last  obtained  a  modification  of  Vergennes'  orders,  Mr. 
Adams,  on  the  2/th  of  July,  left  Paris  for  the  Hague.  His  prime  object  in 
this  journey  was  to  obtain  materials  which  should  permit  of  his  forming  a 
judgment  as  to  the  probability  of  obtaining  an  American  loan  from  the 
Dutch.  His  first  impression  was  very  favorable.  The  principal  obstacle 
seemed  to  lie  in  the  perverted  ideas  regarding  America,  which  the  friends  of 
England  had  instilled  into  the  minds  of  the  Dutch.  To  counteract  this, 
Mr.  Adams  made  his  usual  free  use  of  the  journals  of  the  da}',  and  also 
took  every  occasion  to  disseminate  in  private,  such  facts  as  would  tend  to 
forward  his  wishes.  As  the  result  of  his  representations,  he  was  formally 
empowered  by  Congress  to  effect  a  loan  in  Holland. 

Mr.  Laurens  had  been  appointed,  by  Congress,  minister  to  Holland, 
and  had  set  sail  for  Amsterdam.  At  this  critical  moment  of  Mr.  Adams' 
negotiation,  when  the  bankers  seemed  favorably  interested  in  America,  came 
news  that  Laurens  had  been  captured  by  a  British  cruiser,  and  with  him  a 
draft  of  a  proposed  treat}'  between  the  United  States  and  Holland,  which 
seriously  compromised  the  latter  with  Great  Britain.  A  panic  at  once 
seized  the  merchants  and  bankers,  and  negotiations  were,  for  the  time, 
brought  to  a  stand-still. 

On  the  1st  day  of  January,  1781,  came  a  commission  to  Adams,  as 
plenipotentiary  to  Holland.  No  sooner  was  this  received  than  he  began 
to  labor  for  recognition.  The  arrogant  action  of  England  toward  Hol 
land,  had  left  only  the  choice  between  resistance  and  abject  surrender. 
The  Dutch  were  not  prepared  for  the  latter,  and  the  eagerness  of  England 
to  find  cause  for  quarrel,  indirectly  served  the  ends  of  America. 
stadtholder  and  the  court  were  known  to  be  inclined  to  the  English  view  of 
the  subject,  but  the  people  were  strongly  tinctured  with  the  spirit  of  liberty, 
and  among  them  Mr.  Adams  found  his  best  friends.  In  the  midst  of  this 
negotiation,  and  before  it  had  been  prosecuted  to  a  result,  there  came  to 
Adams  a  message  from  the  Count  de  Vergennes,  requesting  his  presence  in 
France,  in  his  capacity  of  commissioner  for  the  negotiation  of  a  peace. 


33O  JOHN    ADAMS. 

This  was  accompanied  by  no  explanation  of  the  attitude  of  affairs,  and  the 
American  envoy  had  been  studiously  kept  ignorant  of  the  progress  of  the 
negotiation.  Nevertheless  he  set  out,  and  arrived  in  Paris  on  the  6th  day  of 
July,  1781. 

The  immediate  reason  for  summoning  Adams  to  Paris,  was  the  neces 
sity  of  considering  a  proposal  of  accommodation,  made  by  Russia  and 
Austria,  and  forwarded  to  the  respective  ministers  of  those  powers  at  Paris, 
London,  and  Madrid.  The  proposal  provided  for  a  wholly  separate  nego 
tiation  between  Great  Britain  and  the  United  States,  without  the  interven 
tion  of  France,  or  of  mediators,  unless  such  should  be  requested ;  no 
treaty  was,  however,  to  be  executed  or  signed,  except  simultaneously  with  a 
peace  between  the  belligerents  for  whom  the  mediation  was  proposed.  The 
fourth  article  provided,  in  the  event  of  the  acceptance  of  this  proposal  by  all 
parties,  the  belligerents  should  call  upon  the  mediating  powers  to  open  the 
congress,  and  should  at  once  commission  representatives  to  attend  it.  This 
fourth  and  last  article,  which  involved  the  standing  of  the  United  States  in 
the  negotiation,  was  kept  secret  from  Mr.  Adams, — the  Count  de  Ver- 
gennes  fearing  that  the  American  envoy  might  demand  so  much  for  his 
country,  and  for  himself  in  his  representative  capacity,  as  to  defeat  his  own 
plan  of  reducing  America  to  the  ignominious  position  of  holding  a  seat  in 
the  congress,  without  a  vote,  thus  juggling  with  her  interests  and  leaving 
her  powerless  to  act. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  go  into  particulars  regarding  this  effort  at  media 
tion,  for  the  reason  that  it  failed — principally  because  of  the  obstinacy  of 
England's  doting  old  king,  who  could  not  brook  an  interference  of  France 
between  Great  Britain  and  her  colonies.  Even  had  this  stubborn  resistance 
failed  of  wrecking  the  project,  it  would  have  been  gravely  imperiled  by  the 
fact  that  America,  in  spite  of  Franklin's  leaning,  would  assuredly  have 
insisted  upon  independence,  absolute  and  unqualified,  as  its  ultimatum, 
'refusing  to  accept  the  prolonged  truce  proposed  by  Spain,  and  would  have 
withdrawn  unconditionally  from  the  negotiation,  unless  regarded  as  a  bellig 
erent  power,  rather  than  an  insurgent  praying  succor  from  Europe.  While 
the  proposals  of  Russia  and  Austria  were  pending,  Adams  wrote  Vergennes 
in  no  uncertain  tone,  foreshadowing  this  policy,  and  evoked  an  angry 
answer  from  that  minister,  in  which  it  was  stated  that  preliminaries  were  to 
be  arranged  before  the  United  States  could  be  fully  recognized,  and  which 
closed  with  something  very  like  a  threat  that  Adams  should  lose  his  place, 
did  he  insist  upon  making  such  demands.  The  letter  was  addressed  and 
franked  by  Vergennes,  in  his  own  hand,  to  Adams,  as  agent  of  the  United 
States  of  North  America.  In  spite  of  this  pointed  rebuff,  Adams  supple 
mented  his  letter  to  Vergennes  with  two  others,  in  which  he  respectfully  and 
clearly  reiterated  his  arguments  for  the  recognition  of  America  in  the  con 
gress,  and  to  such  effect  that  the  minister,  without  previously  consulting 


THE    TWO    MISSIONS    TO    FRANCE.  33! 

him,  intimated  to  the  mediating  powers,  that  the  recognition  of  the  United 
States  in  the  negotiation  would  be  a  necessary  condition  precedent  to  the 
acceptance  by  France  of  the  proposal  for  intervention.  The  negotiation 
lingered  through  January,  1/82,  when  it  died  by  the  act  of  England. 

Long  before  this  final  closing  of  the  negotiation,  Adams,  despairing  of 
its  effect,  had  returned  to  Holland,  and  resumed  his  independent  labors  for 
recognition.  He  had  scarcely  reached  Amsterdam,  when  he  learned  that 
the  representations  of  Vergennes  had  resulted  in  the  revocation  of  his  com 
mission  to  negotiate  a  treaty  of  commerce  with  England,  but  he  had  so 
long  regarded  that  matter  as  practically  ended,  that  the  revocation  gave  him 
little  uneasiness.  He  also  received  word  that  the  peace  commission  had 
been  enlarged  by  the  addition  of  Dr.  Franklin,  Mr.  Jay,  Mr.  Laurens,  and 
Mr.  Jefferson.  The  association  with  himself  of  so  many  able  and  repre 
sentative  men,  gave  him  great  satisfaction.  The  Congress,  which  was  much 
lowered  in  tone  and  spirit,  had,  however,  done  other  acts  in  connection  with 
the  commission,  which,  had  he  then  known,  would  have  caused  him  serious 
anxiety  and  annoyance.  The  first  of  these  was  the  retreat  from  every  con 
dition  precedent  to  the  peace,  save  that  of  independence;  the  second — and 
this  is  the  most  ignominious  act  in  the  history  of  America — to  direct  its 
commissioners,  "ultimately  to  govern  themselves  by  the  advice  and  opin 
ion  of  the  French  minister." 

In  the  meantime,  Adams'  distrust  of  Vergennes  was  increased  by  dis 
covering  that  his  own  negotiations  in  Holland,  those  of  Jay  at  Madrid,  and 
of  Dana  at  St.  Petersburg,  not  only  did  not  receive  the  assistance  of  France, 
but  were  covertly  opposed.  Hence  he  concluded  to  wait  no  longer  upon 
the  action  of  Vergennes,  but  to  throw  his  whole  personal  reputation,  and 
the  success  of  his  effort,  upon  a  single  cast.  Several  circumstances  united 
to  favor  his  effort.  lie  first  received  a  commission  from  the  United  States, 
authorizing  him  to  negotiate  a  tripartite  alliance  of  France,  Holland,  and 
the  United  States;  next  came  news,  conveyed  directly  by  Washington,  of 
the  capitulation  of  Cornwallis,  and,  most  potent  of  all,  England  adopted  so 
arbitrary  a  course  toward  Holland,  in  declaring  war  when  negotiation  might 
so  easily  have  settled  the  differences,  that  the  old  popular  part}'  of  the  com 
mercial  cities  was  aroused,  and  fairly  overbalanced  the  stadtholder,  who 
was  the  creature  of  a  corrupt  favorite,  and  the  friend  of  England.  Mention 
has  been  made  of  a  memorial,  addressed  by  Adams,  to  the  States  General, 
announcing  his  accrediting  to  Holland,  and  demanding  recognition.  In 
January,  1782,  he  began  a  round  of  formal  visits  to  the  representatives  of 
the  various  states,  requesting  a  categorical  answer  to  this  memorial.  He- 
was  received  with  varying  cordiality,  according  to  the  inclination  of  the 
several  officers.  The  assent  of  seven  of  the  states  was  necessary  to  the 
granting  of  his  request,  and,  in  every  instance,  the  persons  to  whom  he 
appealed,  pleaded  lack  of  authority,  and  promised  to  refer  the  matter.  Soon 


332  JOHN   ADAMS. 

came  news  that  one  state  had  decided  favorably  to  the  request ;  then  that 
another  had  done  so,  and,  finally,  on  the  igth  of  April,  1782,  the  council 
having  received  a  sufficient  number  of  favorable  votes,  recognized  John 
Adams  as  minister  plenipotentiary  of  the  United  States.  He  did  not  allow 
matters  to  rest  with  this  recognition,  but  on  the  same  day  presented  a  pro 
posal  for  a  treaty  of  amity  and  commerce,  and,  pending  the  slow  course  of 
Dutch  diplomacy,  pressed  the  negotiation  of  a  much  needed  loan.  His  suc 
cess  with  council  and  capitalists  was  complete  The  treaty  was  signed  on 
t'he  i /th  of  October,  1782,  and,  before  that  time,  a  loan  of  five  million  guil 
ders,  only  the  first  of  several  large  investments,  was  closed.  Thus  his 
second  mission  to  Holland  came  to  an  end. 

Mr.  Adams  was  wont  to  regard  his  success  in  Holland  as  the  greatest 
•accomplishment  of  his  life,  and  it  may  with  much  reason  be  so  considered. 
He  went  to  that  country,  under  the  disapproval  of  the  French  minister, 
unacquainted  with  the  language,  customs,  and  sentiments  of  the  people.  He 
found  them  ignorant  to  the  last  degree  as  to  American  affairs,  or,  worse  still, 
intentionally  misled  by  friends  of  England.  He  overcame  all  obstacles; 
«ised  the  press  and  obtained  the  ears  of  prominent  men  in  private.  He 
conquered  the  secret  discountenance  of  France,  the  opposition  of  the  stadt- 
liolder  and  the  aristocracy;  created  a  public  sentiment  in  favor  of  America, 
and  won  recognition,  alliance,  and,  hardest  of  all,  money.  All  this  he 
accomplished  quite  alone,  and  it  was,  in  truth,  a  great  achievement. 


THE    NEGOTIATION    OF    THE   PEACE.  333 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  NEGOTIATION  OF  THE  PEACE. 

WHEN  came  the  call  to  Paris,  Adams  was  none  too  eager  to  go.  He 
had  sufficient  knowledge  of  Vergcnnes  to  doubt  his  good  faith,  and 
to  be  certain  that  the  coming  negotiation  would  be  extremely  vexatious. 
He  did  not,  therefore,  at  once  desert  his  mission  in  Holland,  which  had  then 
reached  a  very  critical  point,  but  waited  to  secure  the  signature  of  his  treaty, 
—then  took  his  departure,  arriving  in  Paris  October  6,  1782. 

The  condition  of  the  negotiation  was  most  peculiar.  Already,  so  early 
as  the  month  of  March,  1782,  Lord  North,  whose  administration  had 
received  its  death  blow,  had  sent  a  certain  private  agent  named  Digges  to 
sound  Mr.  Adams,  as  to  the  terms  upon  which  negotiation  might  be  estab 
lished,  evidently  desiring  to  conduct  an  independent  and  private  con 
ference  with  him.  As  a  condition  precedent  to  granting  Digges  an  inter 
view,  Adams  required  that  a  third  person  be  present,  and  that  he  himself 
should  be  at  liberty  to  disclose  anything  that  might  pass  to  the  Count  dc 
Vergennes.  These  requirements  in  effect  announced  the  failure  of  Digges' 
mission.  After  an  unimportant  conversation  he  returned  to  England  and 
later  made  a  communication  to  Adams,  which  confirmed  his  suspicion  that 
Lord  North  was  simply  sounding  him  with  the  hope  of  betraying  him  into 
some  unwise  communication,  and  was  never  sincere  in  his  expressed  desire 
to  treat.  Later  came  the  crisis  which  upset  North,  to  give  place  to  a  cab 
inet  headed  by  the  Marquis  of  Rockingham,  with  Charles  Fox  in  the 
foreign,  and  Lord  Shelburne  in  the  colonial  office.  Of  course  the  subject  of 
American  affairs,  upon  which  the  cabinet  of  North  had  been  wrecked,  was 
the  rock  in  the  course  of  the  new  ministry  as  well.  At  the  very  outset 
arose  a  complication  between  Fox  and  Shelburne,  each  of  whom  claimed 
that  the  American  negotiation  belonged  in  his  province,  which  ultimately 
wrecked  the  ministry.  Out  of  this  grew  a  remarkable  series  of  secret 
manoeuvres,  in  which  each  of  the  ministers  carried  on  his  own  preliminary 


334  JOHN    ADAMS. 

negotiation  by  means  of  private  agents.  Mr.  Richard  Oswald,  sent  as  rep> 
resentative  of  Lord  Shelburne,  was  soon  deep  in  consultation  with  Franklin, 
while  Mr.  Thomas  Grenville,  an  emissary  of  Fox,  was  sounding  the  Count 
de  Vergennes. 

It  is  neither  necessary  nor  possible  to  follow  the  various  phases  of  the 
preliminary  steps  to  the  negotiation.  Fox  favored  admitting  American 
independence  in  the  first  instance ;  Shelburne  desired  that  question  to 
remain  as  an  element  in  the  negotiation.  The  misunderstandings  and  mys 
terious  reservations  of  agents,  impressed  Vergennes  and  Franklin  with  dis 
trust  of  the  good  faith  of  Great  Britain.  Then  Jay  returned  from  Spain. 
He  knew  that  Spain  would  claim  such  a  boundary  as  should  cut  off  the 
United  States  from  the  Mississippi  river.  All  knew  that  England  would 
make  every  possible  encroachment  at  the  north,  and  that  she  would  protest 
against  the  demands  of  the  United  States  regarding  the  fisheries.  Jay  sus 
pected  that  Vergennes  could  not  be  relied  upon  for  any  active  opposition. 
He  did  not,  however,  know — what  was  the  fact — that  Vergennes  had  sent  a 
secret  emissary  to  Lord  Shelburne,  intimating  that  France  would  not  uphold 
America  in  any  unjust  demands,  from  which  language  a  readiness  to  make 
liberal  concessions,  in  the  name  of  America,  was  intended  to  be  inferred. 

The  defeat  of  Fox,  his  retirement  from  the  cabinet,  the  death  of  Rock- 
ingham,  and  the  elevation  of  Shelburne  to  the  premiership,  all  these  led  up 
to  the  commissioning  of  Mr.  Oswald  to  treat  regarding  peace,  with  ''the 
thirteen  colonies  of  North  America,  or  any  persons  whatever."  Franklin 
and  Vergennes  expressed  themselves  willing  to  accept  this  peculiar  com 
mission  and  to  treat  with  Mr.  Oswald.  Mr.  Jay  refused  so  to  do,  or  to  be 
content  with  aught  but  an  antecedent  recognition  of  American  indepen 
dence.  It  was  by  reason  of  this  disagreement  that  Mr.  Adams  was  summoned, 
not  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  Vergennes,  and  decidedly  to  the  chagrin  of 
Oswald,  who  had  hoped  to  conclude  his  treaty  without  the  intervention  of  a 
person  so  difficult  either  to  intimidate  or  cajole.  Adams'  first  suggestion, 
made  in  a  letter  to  Jay  during  September,  was  that  a  compromise  be  effected 
by  the  amendment  of  Oswald's  commission  \vhich  should  give  him  power  to 
treat  with  the  United  States  of  America.  He  considered  that  this,  while  not 
a  formal  recognition,  would  be  a  sufficient  admission  to  form  the  basis  of  a 
negotiation.  The  combined  influence  of  Mr.  Jay's  pressing  representations 
and  of  the  anxiety  of  England  to  close  a  treaty  without  the  intervention  of 
Adams,  was  to  secure  this  amendment  of  Oswald's  instructions,  and  lie  at 
last  stood  recognized  and  apparently  unhampered  as  the  agent  of  Great  Brit 
ain,  and  opened  his  business  with  Jay  and  Franklin.  The  first  step  was  the 
submission  by  Mr.  Oswald  to  his  government  of  a  threefold  proposition,  sug 
gested  by  Mr.  Franklin  as  a  basis  of  negotiation.  This  embraced,  first: 
the  recognition  of  American  independence  and  liberal  definition  of  bounda 
ries;  second:  such  joint  use  of  fisheries,  as  had  existed  since  the  French 


THE    NEGOTIATION    OF  THE    PEACE. 


335 


war  until  the  Revolution;  third:  free  navigation  of  the  Mississippi.  This 
proposal  certainly  was  broad  enough,  covering  every  possibly  controverted 
point;  it  was,  in  fact,  too  broad  to  suit  king,  cabinet,  or  people  of  Great 
Britain.  It  began  to  be  suspected  that  Mr.  Oswald  was  not  quite  as  wise  as 
a  serpent,  hence  he  was  reinforced  in  his  mission,  by  the  appointment  of 
Mr.  Henry  Strachey,  who  was  instructed  to  insist  upon  the  indemnification 
of  refugees,  the  curtailment  of  boundaries,  and  the  modification  of  American 
demands  regarding  trade  and  the  fisheries.  From  the  moment  of  the 
arrival  of  this  gentleman,  the  harmony  of  the  negotiation  was  at  an  end. 
France,  too,  began  to  manifest  in  an  unequivocal  manner  her  design  to 
support  the  British  commissioners  in  their  demands  for  the  modification  of 
the  American  ultimata  as  to  trade  and  the  fisheries.  It  was  at  this  point 
that  Mr.  Adams,  having  at  last  settled  his  important  matters  at  the  Hague, 
arrived  at  Paris  to  assume  his  place  in  the  commission.  This  was  indeed  a 
most  delicate  one,  calling  for  his  action  with  and  judgment  between  two 
colleagues  radically  disagreed  upon  a  vital  matter,  he  himself  being  fully  of 
the  mind  of  neither. 

The  attitude  of  France  brought  before  the  commissioners  for  the  first 
time,  a  full  practical  appreciation  of  the  disadvantage  and  the  blind  folly  of 
the  action  of  Congress,  which  had  made  them  ultimately  dependent  upon  the 
decision  of  the  French  minister.  They  had  before  felt  this  as  a  humiliation; 
they  now  saw  before  them  only  the  choice  between  ignoring  this  direction 
and  proceeding  with  a  separate  negotiation,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  stand 
ing  idly  by,  while  France  should  barter  away  the  most  valuable  rights  of 
America,  to  assist  in  oiling  the  wheels  of  Furopean  diplomacy  for  her  own 
purposes.  Jay  was  the  first  to  declare  his  intention  of  proceeding  independ 
ently  of  France;  Franklin  still  professed  confidence  in  the  ultimate  justice 
of  that  power,  but,  upon  Adams' joining  with  Jay,  he  assented.  Yergcnnes 
did  not  seem  seriously  offended  at  the  action  of  the  commissioners;  it 
was,  in  fact,  a  delicate  and  vexatious  duty  taken  from  his  hands,  and  if  he 
might  be  clear  of  it,  he  was  willing  to  waive  ever}-  real  and  imaginary  right, 
except  that  secured  in  the  treaty  of  alliance,  that  the  peace  of  France  and 
America  with  Great  Britain  should  be  simultaneous. 

When  the  negotiation  was  re-begun,  under  this  new  determination, 
Franklin  and  Jay  were  reinforced  by  Adams;  Oswald  by  Strachey.  The 
independence  was  conceded,  as  was  the  matter  of  navigation  of  the 
Mississippi.  The  points  principally  at  issue  were  questions  of  boundary 
and  the  fisheries,  claimed  by  America;  the  securing  of  debts  due  British 
subjects,  and  the  payment  of  indemnity  to  refugees,  insisted  upon  by  the 
British.  Adams  came  just  in  time  to  save  the  interests  of  New  Fngland  as 
to  the  northeastern  boundary  and  the  fisheries,  for,  while  his  colleagues  had 
pressed  for  them,  they  had  not  insisted  upon  them  as  essential.  The  result 
of  the  early  consultations  of  the  enlarged  commission,  was  the  drawing  of 


336  JOHN    ADAMS. 

new  proposals  by  Mr.  Adams,  which  granted  to  British  subjects  the  right  of 
collecting  their  debts  by  agency  of  the  American  courts,  refused  all  indem 
nity  to  refugees,  demanded  liberal  boundaries,  and  equal  rights  with  Great 
Britain  as  to  the  fisheries.  These  Strachey  conveyed  to  London,  leaving 
behind  him  a  note  in  which  he  predicted  a  failure  of  the  negotiation,  should 
they  not  be  modified.  The  ministry  was,  however,  in  such  a  strait  that 
peace  was  a  necessity,  and  the  ultimate  granting  of  the  demands  made  by 
the  American  commissioners,  a  light  matter  when  compared  with  it.  Hence 
Strachey  returned  to  France  with  instructions  to  offer  concessions  regarding 
boundaries,  to  maintain  the  former  position  regarding  the  fisheries  and  refu 
gees,  until  the  determination  of  the  American  commissioners  became  evi 
dent,  then  to  recede  and  accept  their  terms. 

The  fisheries  question  coming  up,  after  some  discussion,  Strachey  offered 
to  concede  the  fishing  at  a  distance  of  more  than  three  leagues  from  the  coast, 
as  a  privilege,  but  declined  to  yield  it  nearer  the  shore.  Adams  claimed 
the  fisheries  of  the  high  seas  as  a  right,  that  of  the  waters  within  the  juris 
diction  of  Great  Britain  as  a  concession.  The  British  commissioners  made 
one  more  stand,  avowing  their  readiness  to  yield  the  liberty  but  not  the 
right  of  fishing.  Adams  answered  in  a  bold,  determined,  vehement  speech, 
saying  that  he  had  come  to  the  conference  to  protect  the  rights  of  America 
to  the  fishery,  and  that  he  would  accept  no  other  expression  in  lieu  thereof. 
This  was  a  bold  stand,  for  the  commercial  mission  under  which  he  originally 
went  to  France,  had  been  revoked,  and  the  matter  of  the  fisheries  was  then 
not  even  held  as  an  ultimatum  by  the  United  States.  He  turned  to  Lau- 
rens,  who  had  joined  the  commission,  for  corroboration  and  support,  which 
he  received  in  liberal  measure.  Jay,  though  perhaps  less  warm  in  his 
approval,  also  acquiesced.  The  British  commissioners,  deeming  that  they 
had  carried  resistance  as  far  as  their  instructions  demanded,  announced  their 
willingness  to  accept  the  terms  proposed,  and,  on  the  same  day,  the  29th 
of  November,  1782,  was  signed  the  provisional  treaty  of  peace.  The  vic 
tory  was  indeed  a  grand  one.  The  negotiation  of  so  favorable  a  peace  by 
the  inexperienced  diplomatists  of  an  infant  nation,  hampered  by  the  weak 
ness  of  their  Congress,  furtively  opposed  by  the  wily  minister  of  France, 
dealing  with  a  nation  so  arrogant  and  unbending  as  Fngland — it  was  indeed 
an  accomplishment  excusing  a  measure  of  pride.  No  other  man  upon  the 
commission  did  so  much  to  literally  and  inflexibly  support  the  demands  of 
America  as  did  Adams,  and  the  maintenance  of  her  boundaries  and  fisheries 
may  justly  be  ascribed  to  him. 

The  preliminary  treaty  could,  of  course,  only  become  effective  when  a 
peace  should  be  concluded  between  the  other  belligerent  powers  and  Eng 
land.  There  had  never  been  a  thought,  on  the  part  of  any  one  of  the  Amer 
ican  commission,  of  overlooking  the  obligation  which  bound  them  to  make  a 
common  peace  as  they  had  made  a  common  war  with  France.  Yet  Ver- 


JOHN  JAY. 
PATP1CK  HtXRY. 


BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN. 


JOHN  HANCOCK. 
GOUVERNEUtt  MORRIS.- 


THE    NEGOTIATION    OF    THE    PEACE.  ^37 

gennes  was  not  free  from  suspicion  that  they  might  make  such  an  attempt. 
When  the  result  of  the  conference  was  first  reported  to  him.  he  expressed  his 
approval,  and  complimented  the  commissioners  upon  the  skill  and  tact  which 
had  brought  their  labors  to  so  happy  an  issue.  Later,  however,  when  Jay 
offered  him  the  opportunity  to  send  dispatches  to  America,  in  the  vessel 
which  was  to  bear  the  announcement  of  their  own  success,  he  appeared 
much  discontented,  and  taxed  them  with  being  in  great  haste  to  communi 
cate  the  result  of  their  own  work,  without  taking  any  pains  to  ascertain  the 
condition  of  the  French  negotiation,  so  that  their  preliminary  treaty  might, 
in  fact,  have  the  same  weight  and  effect  as  if  it  were  definitive.  He,  how 
ever,  accepted  the  offer  of  their  vessel,  and  sent  serious  complaints  regarding 
the  conduct  of  the  commissioners,  particularly  as  related  to  the  independent 
'negotiation.  This  action  on  his  part  would  have  had  much  greater  effect, 
had  it  been  taken  earlier.  Coming  with  the  news  of  the  preliminary  treaty, 
it  lost  half  its  force.  It  drew,  however,  from  Livingston,  secretary  of 
Congress,  a  rebuke  and  admonition,  which  were  ill-timed  and  undeserved. 
This  action  excited  much  indignation  among  the  members  of  the  commis 
sion,  and  was  answered  in  an  elaborate  official  statement  of  facts  and 
arguments. 

In  spite  of  all  misunderstandings  and  mistrust,  delays,  cavillings,  and 
insincerity,  France,  Spain,  and  Kngland  at  last  settled  upon  terms  of  peace, 
and  the  definitive  treaty,  which  formally  admitted  America  to  the  family 
of  nations,  was  signed  on  the  3d  of  September,  1783.  With  this  act,  Mr. 
Adams  regarded  his  mission  in  Kurope  as  completed.  He  had  accomplished 
all  he  had  sought,  the  alliance  with  Holland,  the  loan  which  released 
America  from  desperate  straits,  and  the  peace.  Hence  he  applied  for 
permission  to  return  home.  Congress  and  the  people  were,  however, 
too  well  satisfied  with  what  he  had  clone  in  Kurope,  to  consent  to  give 
up  his  services.  He  had,  in  certain  private  letters,  expressed  regret  that  the 
revocation  of  his  former  commission  had  left  no  one  in  Kurope  with  power 
to  negotiate  a  commercial  treaty  with  Kngland.  This  suggestion  reached 
Congress,  and,  instead  of  his  wished  for  permission  to  return  to  his  home, 
he  received  notice  of  his  appointment,  in  connection  with  Messrs.  Franklin 
and  Jay,  for  that  service. 


538  JOHN    ADAMS. 


CHAPTER  X. 

FURTHER  FOREIGN  SERVICE-THE    VICE-PRESIDENCY. 

DAMS  was  not  at  once  permitted  to  assume  his  duties  upon  the  new 
commission  for  negotiation  with  Great  Britain.  The  arduous  labors 
of  several  successive  years,  and  his  long  exposure  to  the  miasmatic  poison 
of  the  low  countries,  had  combined  to  undermine  his  health ;  already  he  had 
passed  through  an  attack  of  fever  at  the  Hague,  and  now,  having  barely 
completed  his  peace  mission  in  Paris,  he  was  again  prostrated.  His  illness 
was  long  and  serious;  in  its  course  it  was  deemed  necessary  to  remove  him 
from  his  hotel,  in  the  heart  of  Paris,  to  the  quiet  home  of  a  friend,  in  the 
suburbs.  There  he  gradually  improved,  until  he  reached  convalescence; 
long  rides  and  drives  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  and  the  pleasant  by-ways  of 
Auteuil,  brought  slowly  back  a  measure  of  his  strength.  Still  he  did  not 
gain  as  fast  as  he  should,  and,  under  advice  of  his  physicians,  he  sailed  for 
England  in  October,  1783,  made  the  journey  with  comfort,  and  was 
ensconced  at  the  Adelphi  hotel,  in  London.  Through  the  intervention  of 
his  great  and  honored  countryman,  Benjamin  West,  he  obtained  access  to 
Buckingham  and  Windsor  palaces,  and,  by  a  strange  coincidence,  stood  in 
the  house  of  lords  when  the  poor,  weak  old  king  made  his  address,  present 
ing  to  the  house  the  Prince  of  Wales,  that  day  attained  majority,  and  at 
the  same  time  confessing  that  1he  \var  which  he  had  provoked,  had  brought 
only  defeat,  disaster,  and  humiliation. 

Though  the  change  of  air  and  scene  had  proven  beneficial  to  Mr. 
Adams,  it  was  found  that  he  still  required  something  more,  and  he  was 
recommended  to  try  the  effect  of  the  waters  at  Bath.  Hence,  he  left  Lon 
don  and  was  just  becoming  domesticated  in  the  gay  English  watering  place, 
when  came  word  that  the  American  loan,  negotiated  with  Holland,  had 
been  exhausted  ;  that  the  drafts  of  the  American  treasury  upon  the  Barings 
had  been  protested  for  non-acceptance,  and  were  in  danger  of  being  pro 
tested  for  non-payment.  At  the  same  time  he  received  urgent  directions  to 


FURTHER    FOREIGN    SERVICE.  339 

jepair  to  the  Hague  and  negotiate  an  additional  loan.  Weak  and  frail  in 
health,  he  could  scarcely  but  regard  such  an  expedition,  in  the  depth 
of  a  severe  winter,  with  the  primitive  means  of  travel  then  existing,  as 
attempted,  if  at  all,  almost  necessarily  at  the  price  of  his  life.  Yet  he 
determined  to  make  the  effort,  that  he  might  save  to  America  the  results  of 
his  former  efforts.  To  reach  the  Hague  a  dangerous  and  difficult  voyage 
was  necessary,  and  this  was  undertaken  by  Mr.  Adams  and  his  son,  John 
Quincy  Adams,  who  had  been  his  constant  companion  throughout  his 
journeys  and  labor  in  Europe.  The  vessel  was  detained  by  unfavorable 
winds  and  finally  landed  its  passengers  upon  the  island  of  Goree,  whence  it 
was  necessary  to  cross  the  half  frozen  arm  of  the  sea  to  the  island  of  Over 
Flackee,  traverse  its  length,  then  make  another  perilous  crossing  to  the 
main  land.  All  this  was  done  at  a  cost  of  hardship  such  as  Mr.  Adams  had 
never  before  suffered,  and  he  reached  the  Hague  and  opened  the  not  too 
hopeful  negotiation,  which  he  carried  to  a  successful  issue,  providing  suf 
ficient  means  for  all  the  needs  of  government,  until  it  became  self-sustaining 
under  the  Constitution.  This  was  done,  however,  upon  less  favorable  terms 
than  formerly,  by  reason  of  the  extravagance  and  bad  business  methods 
of  the  government,  which  had  somewhat  alarmed  the  methodical  Dutchmen. 

Pending  the  negotiation  of  this  important  loan,  came  overtures  from 
Frederick  II.  of  Prussia,  for  the  making  of  a  commercial  treaty  with  the 
United  States.  Franklin  had  just  concluded  such  a  treat}'  with  Sweden,  and 
Mr.  Adams  submitted  a  copy  of  it  to  the  king,  as  a  basis  for  preliminary  dis 
cussion.  Then  followed  a  long  and  interesting  consideration  of  the  subject, 
involving  a  correspondence  between  Mr.  Adams  and  the  Prussian  minister 
of  state,  which  was  the  ..ourcc  of  great  satisfaction  to  the  former.  Finally, 
when  even'  point  had  been  carefull}'  discussed,  and  ever}'  suggestion  of  the 
king  elaborated  and  embodied  in  the  form  of  a  proposed  treat}',  the  whole 
was  sent  to  the  United  States  for  the  consideration  of  Congress.  Before  it 
was  received,  Congress  had  commissioned  John  Adams,  Benjamin  Franklin, 
and  Thomas  Jefferson  with  general  powers  tor  the  negotiation  of  commercial 
treaties  with  all  European  powers.  This  commission  came  in  the  early 
portion  of  the  year  1/84,  and  not  f.tr  from  this  time  Mrs.  .Adams  and  her 
daughter  arrived  in  Europe  and  the  reunited  family  settled  in  Paris.  Then 
ensued  a  few  months  of  keen  and  uninterrupted  enjoyment,  which  years 
of  almost  constant  separation  and  arduous  labor  had  well  earned.  The 
official  character  of  Mr.  Adams,  added  to  the  recognition  which  his  person 
ality  had  won,  opened  the  most  jealous  doors  of  the  gay  French  capital. 
Mrs.  Adams  was  well  capable  of  worthily  sustaining  her  husband's  position, 
and  thus,  in  the  society  of  the  most  cultivated  and  interesting  persons  of  the 
official,  fashionable,  and  literary  world,  the  days  and  weeks  passed  very 
smoothly. 

The  first  meeting  of  the  new  commission  was  held  at  Paris,  on  the  3Oth 


34O  JOHN    ADAMS. 

day  of  August,  1784,  and  notification  sent  to  every  maritime  power  in 
Europe,  of  its  existence  and  the  scope  of  its  authority.  There  was  no 
manifestation  of  eagerness  on  the  part  of  the  powers  to  meet  the  commis 
sion,  and  conclude  treaties  with  the  new  and  half-trusted  nation  beyond  the 
Atlantic.  Frederick,  of  Prussia,  was  a  notable  exception  ;  the  unfinished 
negotiation,  begun  with  Mr.  Adams,  was  carried  forward  under  the  new 
commission,  and  resulted  in  the  adoption  of  a  treaty  which,  for  liberality 
and  humanity,  was  far  in  advance  of  any  that  had  ever  been  sealed  between 
nations.  The  privileges  of  trade,  the  guaranties  of  personal  immunity, 
and  the  general  unreserved  reciprocity,  did  infinite  credit  alike  to  the  king 
and  to  Mr.  Adams,  and  were  well  worthy  of  a  more  general  recognition  and 
imitation  than  they  have  received  even  in  a  later  century.  The  labors  of  the 
commission  were  not  engrossing,  and  the  happy  life  at  Paris  continued  until 
the  month  of  February,  1785,  when  came  to  Adams  notice  of  his  appoint 
ment  as  envoy  to  St.  James, — a  tardy  recognition  of  the  folly  of  the  revo 
cation  of  his  former  commission.  It  was  with  reluctance  that  the  recipient 
of  this  appointment  left  Paris  for  London,  to  take  up  his  new  and  important 
duties  as  the  first  envoy  of  the  victorious  colonies,  to  the  court  of  the 
defeated  king.  It  was,  indeed,  a  delicate  charge  which  he  had  to  assume. 
The  confederation  of  the  North  American  States,  had  only  survived  the 
war  by  the  force  of  public  emergency,  and,  with  the  withdrawal  of  this 
external  pressure,  it  was  falling  to  pieces  like  the  timbers  of  a  stranded 
ship.  The  British  government  had  deserted  the  pacific  and  liberal  policy  of 
the  Shelburne  ministry,  which,  had  it  been  adopted,  would  have  united  the 
two  nations  by  ties  of  common  interest  more  permanent  and  valuable  than 
those  which  had  been  dissolved  by  war.  In  its  place  had  been  proposed  a 
policy  of  rigorous  exclusion  of  the  United  States  from  all  the  benefits  of 
the  British  colonial  trade.  It  can,  in  fact,  scarcely  be  regarded  as  a  policy, 
for  it  was  the  least  politic  course  which  could  have  been  pursued,  and  was 
dictated  purely  by  resentment.  Though  opposed  by  the  wisest  statesmen, 
it  pleased  the  thoughtless  ones,  it  pleased  the  king,  and  it  flattered  the 
wounded  pride  of  the  people.  Then,  too,  the  American  confederation 
failed  to  live  up  to  its  treaty  agreements ;  not  only  was  there  a  conspicuous 
lack  of  zeal  in  opening  the  way  for  the  collection  of  debts  held  by  British 
citizens,  but  some  states  actually  went  so  far  as  to  declare  such  obligations 
void,  repudiating  the  act  of  Congress  and  its  commission.  There  was  much 
cause  for  the  mortification  of  the  friends  and  the  exultation  of  the  enemies 
of  America  throughout  Europe,  and  especially  in  Great  Britain.  The  latter 
power  needed  only  a  pretext  for  retaliation,  and  refused  to  abandon  the 
frontier  forts  as  stipulated  in  the  treaty. 

This  being  the  condition  of  affairs,  the  mission  of  Adams  was  fore 
doomed  to  failure.  Upon  arriving  at  London,  in  May,  he  was  formally 
presented  to  the  king,  and  was  received  with  icy  civility.  No  people  in  the 


FURTHER    FOREIGN    SERVICE.  34! 

world,  sooner  detects  or  is  more  strictly  ruled  by  the  humor  of  royalty, 
than  is  the  British.  What  was  bare  civility  in  the  king,  became  coldness  in 
the  ministry,  superciliousness  in  the  court,  rudeness  in  the  people.  When 
Jefferson  was  summoned  from  Paris,  to  give  counsel  in  the  matter,  he  went 
with  Adams  before  the  king,  and  the  monarch,  after  a  few  formal  words, 
placed  the  royal  orb  in  eclipse,  by  turning  his  back  upon  the  representative 
rebels.  Failure  was  everywhere  predicted  for  the  American  experiment, 
and  there  seemed  little  reason  for  a  better  hope.  There  were  not  lacking 
wise  men  in  England,  who  expected  to  see  America  begging  for  pardon, 
protection,  and  a  place  in  the  colonial  family.  Under  such  circumstances 
the  negotiation  of  a  treaty  of  commerce  was  entirely  impracticable.  Jeffer 
son  returned  to  Paris  within  a  few  weeks,  and,  although  Adams  remained  in 
London  for  nearly  three  years,  his  mission  calls  for  no  further  attention. 

The  opinions  of  Europe  were  at  that  time  very  unsettled.  The  polit 
ical  leaven  which  resulted  in  the  French  revolution,  was  even  then  at  work, 
and  not  alone  in  Paris  or  in  France.  Every  capital  in  Europe  had  its  imita 
tors  and  disciples  of  Rousseau,  Voltaire — even  of  the  hideous  fanatic, 
Marat.  Political  discussion  was  the  only  discussion,  and  the  word  liberty 
was  upon  every  tongue.  As  was  inevitable  under  the  circumstances,  the 
American  experiment  was  much  discussed  and  freely  condemned,  though 
with  no  great  enlightenment.  Among  its  assailants  was  M.  Turgot,  a 
French  publicist,  and,  upon  reading  his  production,  Mr.  Adams  determined 
to  devote  his  time  to  elaborating  his  own  theory  of  American  system, 
for  the  enlightenment  of  Europe,  as  well  as  the  clarification  of  American 
ideas  upon  the  subject.  With  infinite  labor  he  prepared  and  published  his 
work  entitled,  A  Defense  of  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States  from  the 
Attack  of  M.  Turgot,  which  ultimately  extended  to  three  volumes,  and  was 
published  and  read  throughout  Europe  and  America.  The  work  was  not  a 
remarkable  one  from  a  literary  standpoint,  and  its  significance  has  long  since 
passed,  but  it  vindicated  its  niison  tf  ctrc  at  the  time,  placing  before  the 
world  the  first  elaborate  and  well  considered  discussion  of  the  subject.  The 
first  volume  came  to  Massachusetts  just  at  the  time  when  the  fate  of  the 
newly  framed  federal  Constitution  hung  in  the  balance.  The  state  was 
divided,  the  commercial  element  favoring  the  Constitution  ;  the  agricultural 
class  opposing  it.  Samuel  Adams  and  John  Hancock  were  inclined  to  take 
part  with  the  opposition.  They  read  John  Adams'  volume;  he  had  learned 
lessons  by  the  failure  of  the  confederation,  and  the  burthen  of  his  argument 
was  in  favor  of  a  federation,  with  adequate  central  authority,  in  the  hands  of 
an  elective  executive,  a  legislature  composed  of  two  branches,  and  a  judi 
ciary  which  should  check  the  legislative.  This  was  a  modification  of  the 
British  system  to  meet  the  needs  of  America,  and  it  did  not  sufficiently 
differ  from  that  embodied  in  the  proposed  constitution  of  America,  to 
weaken  the  effect  of  its  arguments  in  favor  of  that  instrument,  and,  as  a 


342  JOHN    ADAMS. 

result,  these  may  be  said  to  have  determined  the  policy  of  Sainu^  Adams 
and  Hancock ;  with  them  the  action  of  Massachusetts ;  with  'Massachu 
setts  the  fate  of  the  constitution.  The  work  was  later  read,  analyzed, 
rudely  dismembered,  and  every  isolated  sentence  which  could  be  turned  to 
such  a  purpose,  used  to  show  that  Adams  was  a  monarchist  and  a  danger 
ous  enemy  of  freedom. 

With  the  completion  and  publication  of  this  treatise,  Adams  felt  his 
work  in  Europe  to  be  done.  During  the  year  1787  he  solicited  permission, 
to  return  home;  in  February,  1788,  he  received  his  recall,  and  during 
the  following  spring  sailed  for  America.  Thus  ended  his  marvelous  diplo 
matic  service. 

The  period  intervening  between  the  return  of  Adams  to  America  and 
his  assumption  of  the  honors  of  the  presidency  must  be  dismissed  with 
great  brevity.  The  Constitution  was  ratified  immediately  after  his  home 
coming,  and  the  agitation  of  the  presidential  question  at  once  began. 
Washington  was  clearly  to  be  President ;  who  should  be  Vice  President  was 
problematical.  The  fundamental  differences  out  of  which  grew  the  federal 
and  democratic  parties,  dated  from  the  Constitution.  All  who  favored  it 
were  deemed  federalists,  all  who  opposed,  democrats.  Hamilton  was  a  lead 
ing  spirit  in  the  preliminary  steps  of  what  we  should  now  call  a  campaign. 
It  was  vitally  important  that  the  Vice  President  should  be  in  harmony  with 
the  Chief  Executive,  and,  to  Hamilton's  view,  no  less  so  that  he  should  be  of 
the  federal  inclining.  Geographical  considerations,  too,  had  their  weight.  As 
Washington  was  a  Virginian,  it  was  desirable  to  throw  a  sop  to  the  North, 
and  New  England  in  particular  needed  a  harmonizing  effort.  The  most 
prominent  men  of  New  England,  were  John  and  Samuel  Adams,  and  John 
Hancock,  and,  among  these,  there  could  be  no  question  either  as  to  gen 
eral  fitness  for  the  place,  or  peculiar  eligibility  for  the  harmonizing  of  fac 
tions  and  supporting  the  first  efforts  of  the  administration.  Yet,  while 
Hamilton  accepted  John  Adams  as  a  necessity,  he  was  far  from  being 
perfectly  content  ;  he  desired  above  all  things  to  keep  the  second  office  of 
the  administration  in  subordination  to  the  first,  and  he  determined  to  secure 
such  a  distribution  of  electoral  votes  as  should  insure  the  repression  of  any 
quiescent  ambition  to  shine  with  too  prominent  a  greatness.  Hamilton,  to 
borrow  a  modern  slang  expression,  was  the  first  political  "  boss  "  ;  he  man* 
ipulated  the  electoral  college  with  such  good  effect  that,  of  its  sixty-nine 
members,  thirty-four  voted  for  Adams,  while  the  votes  of  the  remaining 
thirty-nine  were  divided  among  ten  other  candidates.  This  was  sufficient 
to  elect  him,  but,  to  Hamilton's  view,  enough  to  suggest  to  him  the  advisa 
bility  of  a  reasonable  subordination.  The  service  of  Mr.  Adams  as  vice 
president  may  be  tersely  summed  up,  yet  it  was  more  important  than  he 
would  have  had  the  world  believe,  when  he  wrote  his  wife:  "But  my 
country  has,  in  its  wisdom,  contrived  for  me  the  most  insignificant  office 


THE    VICE    PRESIDENCY.  343 

that  ever  the  invention  of  man  contrived,  or  his  imagination  conceived." 
There  was,  at  the  outset,  a  membership  of  but  twenty  two  in  the  Senate. 
Feeling  ran  high  and  party  lines  were  closely  drawn.  One  of  the  earliest 
important  questions  which  arose,  was  as  to  the  appointment  of  the  Presi 
dent's  cabinet — whether  or  no  the  confirmation  of  the  Senate  should  be 
necessary.  The  injustice  of  placing  such  power  in  the  same  bod}'  of  men 
who  constituted  a  court  for  the  trial  of  an  impeachment,  to-day  seems 
obvious  enough,  yet  the  Senate  was  divided,  nine  votes  being  cast  upon 
either  side  of  the  question.  This  threw  the  decision  into  the  hands  of 
Adams,  as  president  of  the  Senate,  and  he  voted  against  the  conferring  of 
such  power  upon  that  body.  No  less  than  twenty  times,  during  the  first 
Congress,  was  he  called  upon  to  give  a  casting  vote,  and  usual!}'  upon 
important  measures.  In  every  case  he  voted  with  the  administration,  not 
because  he  was  in  sympathy  with  Hamilton,  or  always  with  his  measures, 
but  because  he  saw  the  vital  importance  of  organization  and  the  investment 
of  the  federal  government  with  authority  sufficient  to  carry  its  formative 
policy  into  effect. 

Then  came  the  French  revolution.  Adams,  from  the  first,  believed 
that  no  stability  could  be  expected  in  a  government  of  millions  of  atheists 
and  political  agnostics.  He  said  as  much  in  private  conversation,  in  letters, 
and  in  a  series  of  elaborate  dissertations  in  the  press.  During  all  the 
dangerous  complications  which  followed,  he  was  always  a  devoted  advocate 
of  Washington's  policy  of  neutrality  and  an  opponent  of  the  ruinous  falla 
cies,  which  the  Galliphiles  attempted,  in  their  clubs  and  through  the  press, 
to  engraft  in  America.  Here  he,  for  the  first  time,  came  in  direct  personal 
conflict  with  Jefferson,  who  was  as  much  an  extremist  upon  one  side  of  the 
question  as  was  Hamilton  on  the  other  side.  It  is  interesting  to  note  that, 
while  he  was  using  the  pen  in  opposition  to  the  popular  agitation  in  Phila 
delphia,  his  son,  John  Ouincy  Adams,  then  a  young  Boston  lawyer,  was 
doing  a  similar  work  over  the  signature  Pnblicola,  without  consultation  with 
him  ;  the  letters  of  the  latter  were  pronounced  by  the  most  prominent 
English  publicists,  the  ablest  exposition  of  the  matter  that  had  been  made. 
It  was  not  only  in  writing  and  speaking  that  Adams  served  America 
in  this  emergency.  When,  as  a  result  of  the  arrogant  interference  of  Great 
Britain  with  the  shipping  of  the  United  States,  trading  with  France, 
measures  had  passed  the  lower  house  which  could  only  have  resulted  in 
plunging  the  young  nation  into  the  midst  of  a  general  European  war,  and, 
these  measures  coming  to  a  vote,  in  the  Senate,  that  body  was  equally 
divided,  he  gave  the  casting  vote  in  favor  of  the  administration, — which 
meant  in  favor  of  neutrality  and  peace. 

On  the  3<Dth  of  Ma}',  1/94,  Mr.  Adams  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing 
his  son,  John  Ouincy  Adams,  spontaneously  named  by  Washington  and 
confirmed  by  the  Senate  for  the  mission  to  Holland. 


344  JOHN    ADAMS. 

The  history  of  the  two  administrations  during  which  Adams  filled  the 
vice  presidential  chair  has  been  fully  written  elsewhere.*  Having  briefly 
named  the  principal  features  of  his  service,  it  is  necessary  to  pass  to  the 
year  1796,  when,  by  an  electoral  vote  of  seventy-one,  one  more  than  neces 
sary  to  a  choice,  he  was  chosen  President  of  the  United  States,  with 
Thomas  Jefferson  as  Vice  President.  This  close  vote  presaged  the  disso 
lution  of  the  federalist  party. 

*See  life  of  Washington,  ante. 


THE    PRESIDENCY — CONCLUSION.  34$ 


CHAPTER  XI. 

MR.  ADAMS'  PRESIDENCY— CONCLUSION. 

MR.  ADAMS  was  inaugurated  President  of  the  United  States,  March 
4,  1797.  He  retained  in  office  the  cabinet  which  had  advised 
Washington  during  the  latter  months  of  his  administration, — Thomas  Picker 
ing,  secretary  of  state  ;  Oliver  Wolcott,  secretary  of  the  treasury;  Jame? 
McHenry,  secretary  of  war;  Charles  Lee,  attorney-general.  When,  during 
the  year  1798,  the  navy  department  was  established,  he  made  Benjamin 
Stoddart,  of  Maryland,  secretary  of  the  navy.  At  the  very  outset  of  his 
administration,  he  was  brought  face  to  face  with  the  misunderstandings  with 
France,  which  have  been  discussed  at  large  at  an  earlier  page  of  this  work. 
It  will  be  remembered  that  Charles  C.  Pinckney,  American  minister  to 
France,  had  been  insulted  and  driven  from  its  territories  by  the  republic; 
that  American  ships  carrying  Knglish  products,  or  trading  with  England, 
were  subjected  to  examination  and  the  diversion  of  their  cargoes,  and  that 
one  arrogant  and  injurious  edict  had  followed  another  until  there  was  appar 
ently  little  further  virtue  in  forbearance.  Hence,  the  President  called  an 
extra  session  of  Congress  to  meet  May  15  1/97.  The  federalists  had,  at 
that  time,  a  good  working  majority  in  each  house  of  Congress,  and  the 
indignation  caused  by  the  action  of  France  drew  many  members  of  the 
opposition  temporarily  to  the  administration.  The  President  and  the 
majority  in  Congress  had  not,  however,  despaired  of  maintaining  an  honor 
able  peace;  the  neutrality  laws  were  re-affirmed,  the  fitting  out  of  privateers 
and  the  participation  in  any  hostile  movement  against  France  forbidden,  the 
exporting  of  arms  interdicted,  and  their  importation  encouraged.  The 
President  was  authorized  to  call  out  militia  to  the  number  of  eighty  thou 
sand,  and  provision  was  made  for  the  equipment  of  a  naval  force,  but  one 
entirely  inadequate  to  offensive  service.  In  order  to  meet  the  great  expense 
of  these  measures,  stamp  duties  were  provided  for, — than  which  no  legisla 
tion  ever  proved  more  unpopular.  These  various  acts  include  all  the  impor 
tant  legislation  of  the  special  session,  which  adjourned  July  10,  1797- 


34C  JOHN    ADAMS. 

Previous  to  that  time,  the  President  had  intimated  his  determination  to 
make  one    more  effort   at  accommodating  the  differences  with  France.     Tr 
this  end,  he  nominated   Charles  Cotesworth  Pinckney,  Elbridge   Gerry,  anc* 
John  Marshall  special  envoys  to   France,  with    the  fullest  powers   to   treat. 
These   gentlemen    met    in    Paris   during  the   month    of  October,    1797,  aiuA 
immediately  put  forward  every  effort  toward  the  fulfilment  of  their  mission, 
They  were   met,    however,  with   every  manner  of  evasion   and  subterfuge 
The  government,  affecting  to  ignore  them,  still  employed  unofficial  persons 
to  negotiate  with  them.      These  suppressed  their  own  names,  and  conducted, 
their  endeavors  under  the  mysterious  initials  X,  Y,  and  Z.     The  burthen  of 
this  dishonorable   effort  was   to   detach    the  ministers    from    each  other  and 
obtain    the  views  of  each   in    separate   interviews.      Marshall   and   Pinckney 
were  convinced  of  the  impossibility  of  effecting  any  desirable  result  by  such 
processes,  and  requested  of  Adams  permission  to  return  to  America.     The 
granting  of  this  request  was  almost  immediately  anticipated  by  an  insulting 
and  summary  order  from  the  government,  that  Marshall  and  Pinckney  leave 
France,  coupled  with  an  invitation  to  Gerry  to  remain,  which  was  very  much 
like  a  demand.      Gerry,  doubtless  with  good  intentions,  but  very  unwisely, 
did   continue  in   France   until  the   following  October,    while   his  colleagues 
made  the  best  of  their  way  homeward. 

The  news  of  the  outrageous  conduct  of  France  excited  the  wildest 
excitement  and  anger — particularly  when  it  became  known  that  mone> 
nad  been  demanded  as  the  price  of  peace.  It  was  then  that  Mr.  Pinckne> 
coined  the  noble  and  now  proverbial  phrase:  "Millions  for  defense,  bul 
not  a  cent  for  tribute."  This  sentiment  was  echoed  by  the  people  at  large, 
and  the  Congress  which  assembled  in  regular  session  on  the  I3th  of  Novem 
ber  and  sat  constantly  for  more  than  eight  months,  was  busy  in  concerting 
means  for  defense  against  an  apprehended  French  invasion.  Measures  were 
adopted  for  organizing  an  army  under  the  command  of  Washington ;  for 
defending  the  seaboard  cities ;  for  the  institution  of  a  naval  department,  and 
the  organization  of  an  adequate  maritime  force.  A  loan  was  also  nego 
tiated  and  a  direct  tax  upon  real  estate  levied.  Still,  the  neutrality  of  the 
country  was  sought  to  be  maintained ;  America  stood  simply  in  a  vigilantly 
defensive  attitude.  France  was  engaged  in  a  most  outrageous  interference 
with  American  shipping,  which,  under  pretext  of  enforcing  a  blockade 
against  England,  was  subjected  to  constant  and  malicious  damage.  An  act 
of  Congress  suspended  commercial  relations  with  France  ;  merchant  vessels 
were  permitted  to  arm  themselves  for  defense.  Against  this  policy  the 
democratic  minority  was  strongly  arrayed,  but  the  people  \vere  with  the 
administration  and  Adams  had  good  reason  at  that  time  to  believe  himself 
secure  in  the  good  opinion  of  the  country. 

War  was  never  declared  between  the  United  States  and  France.      The 
intent  of  France,  at  that  time  as  unscrupulous  a  power  as  any  in  the  world,. 


THE    PRESIDENCY CONCLUSION.  347 

seems  to  have  been  to  work  upon  the  fears  of  America  and  exact  money  by 
that  means.  The  active  war  preparations  of  the  United  States,  the  worsting 
of  the  French  frigates  L*  Insurgent  and  La  Vengeance,  by  the  American 
frigate  Constellation,  tended  to  disabuse  the  minds  of  the  mercenary  French 
of  the  idea  that  the  further  prosecution  of  such  an  attempt  could  be  profit 
able.  Anticipating  somewhat  the  order  of  events,  the  history  of  this  compli 
cation  may  be  completed.  The  two  powers  maintained  their  attitude  of  mu 
tual  distrust  until  the  year  1799,  without  further  collision  or  overture.  When 
the  fifth  Congress  convened  for  its  third  session,  in  December,  1/98,  the 
message  of  the  President  was  met  with  very  cordial  approval ;  his  war  meas 
ures  were  prompth'  supported  ;  an  increase  of  the  army  was  voted,  and  a 
million  dollars  appropriated  for  strengthening  the  navy.  France  was  far  from 
eager  to  measure  swords  with  the  United  States,  and  had  she  done  so,  it  is 
more  than  likely  she  would  have  been  defeated,  for  the  younger  nation  was 
well  prepared  and  well  disposed  for  the  conflict.  After  making  many 
important  provisions  for  defense,  Congress  expired  by  limitation,  in  March, 
1799.  Before  this  time  President  Adams  had  received  word  from  Mr. 
William  Vans  Murray,  American  minister  in  Holland,  that  the  French 
minister  to  that  power  had  intimated  that  his  government  would  receive  one 
or  more  American  envoys,  to  treat  for  an  accommodation.  The  President 
determined  to  act  upon  this  hint,  and,  on  the  25th  day  of  February,  1799, 
nominated  to  the  Senate  Mr.  Murray,  Oliver  Kllsworth,  and  Patrick  Henry 
as  such  envoys,  and  all  were  confirmed.  Mr.  Henry  declined  to  serve,  and 
William  R.  Davie,  of  North  Carolina,  was  substituted.  The  envoys  did  not 
depart  for  France  until  November,  1799,  no  official  assurance  that  they 
would  be  favorably  received,  having  been  given  until  October.  When 
they  reached  Paris,  they  found  that  a  change  of  government  had  taken 
place,  and  that  Napoleon  Bonaparte  had  taken  the  first  step  in  his  then 
unsuspected  scheme  of  advancement,  and  ranked  as  first  consul.  The  his 
tory  of  the  negotiation  need  not  be  followed  here.  It  resulted  in  the  con 
elusion  of  a  treat}'  which  secured  peace,  though  it  did  not  definitely  provide 
for  indemnity  for  the  outrages  committed  by  France.  It  was  ratified  by  the 
French  government  in  iSoo,  and  was  in  the  main  confirmed  by  the  Senate 
of  the  United  States,  during  the  administration  of  Mr.  .Adams.  Two  sections 
were,  however,  reserved  and  remained  for  Jefferson  to  settle. 

This  was  a  peace  without  honor.  Mr.  Adams,  carried  away  by  his 
desire  to  prevent  a  war,  sadly  forgot  the  dignity  of  the  United  States,  when 
he  consented  to  accept  an  indefinite  and  roundabout  report  of  the  readiness 
of  France  to  receive  the  envoys  of  a  people  which  she  had  so  grossly 
wronged.  War  would  doubtless  have  been  a  misfortune,  even  if  successful, 
but  not  so  great  as  this  ignominious  suit  for  peace,  when  America  was  well 
able  to  command  her  right  by  force.  This  single  act  lost  Mr.  Adams  the 
support  of  his  part}',  and  the  sympathy  of  the  people,  and  rendered  cer- 


JOHN    ADAMS. 

tain  his  own  defeat,  and  the  overthrow  of  federalism.  Mr.  Adams  felt 
quite  certain  that  his  cabinet  would  at  least  be  divided  in  sentiment ;  per 
haps  a  majority  would  oppose  this  last  opportunity  of  pacification  ;  hence, 
when  he  proceeded  to  name  the  envoys,  he  did  it  without  consultation  with 
them;  he  overcame  the  opposition  of  the  Senate  by  falling  back  upon  the 
constitutional  rights  of  the  executive,  and  thus  took  solely  upon  himself 
the  responsibility  for  the  measure.  His  action  resulted  directly  in  alienat 
ing  his  cabinet,  especially  Mclienry,  secretary  of  war,  and  Pickering,  sec 
retary  of  state.  The  ill-feeling  arising  at  this  time  increased  until,  in  May, 
1800,  Adams  summarily  dismissed  both  from  his  cabinet. 

It  is  necessary  to  return  to  a  brief  discussion  of  important  legislation, 
of  the  years  1797  and  1798. 

In  the  summer  of  the  former  year  was  begun  a  system  of  repression 
which  called  for  and  deserved  the  unqualified  disapproval  of  the  democratic 
party,  as  it  has  at  this  day  the  condemnation  of  every  thinking  man.  This 
was  the  enacting  of  the  famous — or  infamous — alien  and  sedition  laws. 
The  first  required  all  unnaturalized  persons  to  report  themselves  for  regis 
tration  at  the  office  of  the  clerks  of  district  courts;  required  a  residence 
of  fourteen  years,  and  a  declaration  of  intention  to  become  permanent 
residents,  to  be  filed  five  years  before  naturalization  papers  would  be  issued. 
The  President  was  authorized  to  warn  all  persons  he  deemed  dangerous 
to  the  peace  and  safety  of  the  country,  to  depart  therefrom  "within 
such  time  as  should  be  expressed  in  such  order,"  a  penalty  of  three  years' 
imprisonment  to  be  enforced  in  case  of  non-compliance.  These  laws  were 
made  still  more  oppressive  from  time  to  time,  until  ship-loads  of  French 
refugees  and  others  were  forced  to  seek  asylum  in  other  lands. 

The  second  act  of  repression  affected  particularly  the  citizens  of  this 
country.  On  the  I4th  of  July  the  sedition  act  was  passed.  It  provided 
that  any  person  unlawfully  conspiring  to  oppose  any  measure  of  Congress, 
to  prevent  any  officer  of  the  government  from  fulfilling  his  duties,  or  advised 
or  attempted  "to  procure  any  insurrection,  riot,  unlawful  assembly,  or 
combination,  whether  such  conspiracy,  threatening,  council,  advice,  or 
attempt,  should  have  the  proposed  effect  or  not,"  the  persons  so  offending 
should  be  deemed  guilty  of  a  high  misdemeanor,  and  should  be  punished  by 
a  fine  not  exceeding  five  hundred  dollars  and  by  imprisonment  of  not  less 
than  six  months  and  not  more  than  five  years.  The  second  section  of  this 
act  provided  ' '  That  if  any  person  shall  write,  print,  utter  or  publish,  or 
shall  cause  or  procure  to  be  written,  printed,  uttered,  or  published,  or  shall 
knowingly  and  wilfully  assist  or  aid  in  wrriting,  printing,  uttering,  or  pub 
lishing  any  false,  scandalous,  and  malicious  writing  or  writings,  against  the 
government  of  the  United  States,  or  either  house  of  Congress  of  the  United 
States,  or  the  President  of  the  United  States,  with  intent  to  defame  the  said 
government,  or  either  house  of  said  Congress,  or  the  said  President,  or  to 


THE    PRESIDENCY CONCLUSION.  349 

bring  them  or  either  of  them  into  contempt  or  disrepute  ;  or  to  excite 
against  them,  or  either  or  any  of  them,  the  hatred  of  the  good  people  of 
the  United  States,  or  to  stir  up  sedition  within  the  United  States,  or  to 
excite  any  unlawful  combinations  therein,  for  opposing  or  resisting  any  law 
of  the  United  States,  or  any  act  of  the  President  of  the  United  States,  done 
ii  pursuance  of  any  such  law,  of  the  powers  in  him  vested  by  the  Constitu 
tion  of  the  Unitfd  States,  or  to  resist,  oppose,  or  defeat  any  such  law  or  act, 
or  to  aid,  encourage,  or  abet  any  hostile  designs  of  any  foreign  nation 
against  the  United  States,  their  people,  or  government,  then  such  person, 
being  thereof  convicted  before  any  court  of  the  United  States  having  juris 
diction  thereof,  shall  be  punished  by  a  fine  not  exceeding  two  thousand  dol 
lars,  and  by  imprisonment  not  exceeding  two  years." 

Thus  was  a  gag  placed  in  the  mouth  of  every  person  in  the  Union. 
There  could  be  no  more  free  speech  or  free  expression  regarding  any  meas- 
."ure  of  Congress.  The  opposition  held  that  Hamilton  had  planned  deeply, 
and  his  plans  had  assumed  definite  shape.  The  minority  had  the  terror  of 
enforcement  of  this  law  suspended  over  their  heads  should  they  by  word  or 
act  condemn  any  of  his  measures,  or  pass  stricture  on  any  of  his  acts.  The 
first  victim  was  Matthew  Lyon,  a  member  of  Congress,  who  caused  to  be 
published  in  a  Vermont  paper,  respecting  President  Adams,  that  his  "every 
consideration  of  the  public  welfare  was  swallowed  up  in  a  continual  grasp 
for  power,  and  unbounded  thirst  for  ridiculous  pomp,  foolish  adulation,  and 
selfish  avarice."  At  a  public  meeting  he  had  read  and  commented  upon  a 
letter  from  Joel  Barlow,  then  in  France,  expressing  the  sentiment  that  for 
his  speech  to  Congress  the  President  should  be  "sent  to  a  mad-house."  On 
conviction,  Mr.  Lyon  was  sentenced  to  pay  a  fine  of  one  thousand  dollars 
and  suffer  four  months  imprisonment.  The  unfortunate  publisher  of  the 
paper  was  convicted  of  the  publication  of  the  offensive  words,  and  sentenced 
to  two  months  imprisonment  and  to  pay  a  fine  of  two  hundred  dollars. 
Other  trials  and  convictions  followed  during  the  continuance  of  the  law, 
which  expired  by  limitation  during  Jefferson's  first  term  as  President.  Free 
speech  and  free  discussion  of  political  matters  were  then  decided  constitu 
tional  rights  of  all  citizens,  and  have  since  been  general!}'  so  admitted, 
although  some  instances  of  the  enforcement  of  the  gag  law  are  on  record, 
notably  many  years  later  in  the  discussions  relating  to  slavery. 

The  condemnation  of  both  alien  and  sedition  laws  was  justified  by  their 
effect  in  their  entirety,  while  the  restraint  of  the  former  upon  too  speedy 
naturalization,  and  of  the  latter  upon  conspiracy,  were  certainly  desirable. 
If  federalism  had  been  weary  of  life  and  power,  it  could  not  have  commit 
ted  a  more  certainly  effectual  fclo  dc  sc  than  this.  There  were  two  hundred 
newspapers  published  in  the  United  States  at  the  time,  and  all  but  twenty 
of  them  were  of  avowed  federalist  sympathies,  yet  the  influence  of  these 
was  in  no  case  actively  engaged  in  favor  of  these  laws.  Congress  was  rained 


350  JOHN    ADAMS. 

with  petitions  tor  their  repeal,  public  meetings  everywhere  condemned  them, 
and  several  state  legislatures  denounced  them  as  unconstitutional.  Another 
pregnant  cause  of  discontent  was  the  imposition  of  direct  taxes,  which 
produced  so  great  disorder  in  Pennsylvania,  that  it  was  necessary,  for  a 
second  time,  to  call  upon  the  governor  of  that  state  to  order  out  the  militia 
to  enforce  obedience  to  the  laws. 

In  the  sixth  Congress,  was  still  a  federalist  majority.  Theodore  Sedg- 
wick,  of  Massachusetts,  a  prominent  member  of  that  party,  was  speaker  of 
the  House,  and  the  President  received  in  answer  to  his  speech,  assurances  of 
the  approval  of  both  houses.  This  was  a  strictly  party  demonstration,  and 
meant  simply  that  the  federalists  were  in  a  majority.  In  December  came 
news  of  the  death  of  Washington,  and,  after  the  usual  adjournment,  the 
Congress  resumed  the  business  of  a  singularly  laborious  session,  during 
which  eighteen  hundred  acts  were  passed,  further  providing  for  the  defense 
of  the  country  and  for  the  protection  of  commerce  ;  for  maintaining  peace 
with  the  Indians,  and  for  the  relief  of  persons  imprisoned  for  debt,  in  cases 
decided  by  the  courts  of  the  United  States  ;  a  bankrupt  act ;  laws  for  the 
increase  of  import  duties  ;  for  the  extension  of  the  post-office,  and  for  the 
taking  of  a  census  in  the  year  iSoo, — these  were  among  its  most  important 
measures. 

The  popular  opposition  to  the  administration  of  Adams  grew  daily 
stronger.  The  danger  of  war  with  France  being  past,  and  the  popular 
ebullition  over,  the  pressure  of  taxes  was  severely  felt  and  strongly  resented. 
As  may  be  supposed,  the  opposition  did  not  permit  this  dissatisfaction  to 
fail  for  lack  of  fomentation.  When  came  the  time  for  the  selection,  by  con 
gressional  caucuses,  of  the  candidates  of  the  respective  parties  for  President 
and  Vice  President,  the  federalists  named  John  Adams  and  Charles  Cotes- 
worth  Pinckney;  the  democrats,  Thomas  Jefferson  and  Aaron  Burr.  Under 
the  state  constitutions  then  existing  many  of  the  electors  were  to  be  chosen 
by  legislative  votes  ;  this  was  true  of  New  York,  and,  such  being  the  case, 
the  election  of  members  of  the  legislature  of  that  state, — the  first  to  occur 
after  the  nomination — was  peculiarly  significant  in  pointing  to  the  result  of 
the  Presidential  election.  It  occurred  on  the  2g\h  and  3<Dth  of  April,  and 
the  ist  of  May,  1800,  and  was  favorable  to  the  democrats,  thus  reversing  the 
«?ote  by  which  Adams  had  been  elected.  The  effect  of  this  may,  in  some 
degree,  be  judged  at  the  present  day  by  that  of  elections  in  "October 
states";  it  was  to  encourage  the  democrats,  to  nerve  the  federalists  to 
renewed  efforts,  and  to  vastly  embitter  the  struggle  between  them.  It  was 
immediately  after  this  election,  that  Mr.  Adams  removed  Pickering  and  Mc- 
Henry  from  his  cabinet.  This  action  drew  from  Hamilton  a  letter  condemn 
ing  the  conduct  and  impugning  the  character  of  the  President.  This  was  pub 
lished  in  a  pamphlet,  and  was  industriously  circulated,  having  a  very  marked 
effect  in  securing  the  annihilation  of  the  federalist  party.  It  was  bi;t  nat- 


THE    PRESIDENCY CONCLUSION.  351 

ural  that  a  direct  repudiation  of  the  nominee  of  a  party  oy  the  man  wno  was 
recognized  as  its  leader,  should  have  such  an  effect.  Hamilton  did  not 
intend  to  elect  Jefferson,  but  Pinckney ;  his  pamphlet  was  intended  to  be 
circulated  among  federalists,  not  democrats,  but  it  came  into  the  hands  of 
the  latter,  and  quite  overreached  its  original  intention. 

It  was  believed  by  some  that  South  Carolina  would  vote  for  Adams  and 
Pinckney,  but  when,  in  December,  1800,  her  electoral  votes  were  given  for 
Jefferson  and  Burr,  the  fate  of  the  federalists  was  recognized  as  sealed. 
The  electoral  colleges  duly  met  and  gave  their  votes  as  follows  :  Jefferson, 
seventy-three;  Burr,  seventy-three;  Adams,  sixty-five;  Pinckney,  sixty- 
four  ;  John  Jay,  one.  Thus  the  election  was  thrown  into  the  House,  with 
the  result  of  electing  Jefferson  to  the  Presidency. 

On  the  22d  of  November,  1800,  the  sixth  Congress  met  in  the  new 
capital  city,  Washington,  and  Adams  presented  his  last  regular  message. 
John  Marshall,  of  Virginia,  was  secretary  of  state,  in  place  of  Pickering, 
and  Samuel  Dexter,  of  Massachusetts,  secretary  of  war,  in  place  of 
McHenry.  On  the  3ist  of  December  following,  Oliver  Wolcott  resigned 
the  treasury  portfolio,  and  was  replaced  by  Dexter,  Roger  Griswold,  of  Con 
necticut,  being  made  secretary  of  war. 

The  remainder  of  Mr.  Adams'  administration  calls  for  comment  in  only 
one  particular.  During  the  winter  Congress  passed  a  bill,  amending  the 
judiciary  system  by  dividing  the  United  States  into  six  judicial  districts,  and 
appointing  three  judges  for  each,  thus  leaving  the  bench  of  the  supreme 
court  free  to  act  only  upon  appeals  and  in  error.  Between  the  1 3th  of 
February  and  the  4th  of  March,  iSoi,  President  Adams,  with  the  consent 
of  the  Senate,  appointed  judges  to  fill  these  newly  created  vacancies,  and 
issued  their  commissions,  upon  the  eve  of  Jefferson's  inauguration.  This 
action  was  of  course  a  party  expedient,  and  called  down  upon  him  much 
severe  criticism.  The  appointees  were  called  "Adams'  midnight  judges," 
by  reason  of  the  supposed  hour  of  their  appointment.  They  lost  their 
offices  early  in  Jefferson's  term,  by  reason  of  the  repeal  of  the  law  under 
which  they  were  appointed. 

On  the  iith  of  February,  1801,  the  electoral  votes  were  counted,  the 
tie  being  announced  by  Jefferson,  as  president  of  the  Senate.  This  threw 
the  vote  into  the  House,  which  balloted  thirty-six  times,  finally  electing 
Jefferson  President,  and  Burr  Vice  President.  On  the  4th  of  March,  the  new 
President  was  inaugurated,  and  Adams  retired  forever  from  public  life. 


Mr.  Adams  laid  down  the  duties  of  the  presidency,  an  irritated,  disap 
pointed  mun.  Not  that  he  desired  the  office;  had  he  been  defeated,  after 
Deceiving  the  hearty  support  of  his  party,  he  would  have  gone  cheerfully 
and  happily  to  his  home,  but  he  felt  that  the  swords  of  his  enemies  in  front, 
arid  the  daggers  of  false  friends  behind,  had  combined  to  cut  him  off.  He 


352  JOHN    ADAMS. 

felt  a  strong  and  deep-seated  distrust  of  the  democratic  party,  and  a  personal 
irritation  toward  Thomas  Jefferson,  the  incarnation  of  its  principles.  With 
characteristic  disregard  for  appearances — very  unwise  in  its  effect  upon  him 
self  and  sadly  undignified,  he  refused  to  remain  at  Washington  to  attend 
the  inauguration  of  the  President-elect,  and  hastened  to  his  farm  at  Quincy, 
which  he  never,  save  once,  left  for  any  public  service.  That  once  was 
between  the  I5th  of  November,  1820,  and  the  pth  of  January,  1821,  when, 
Maine  having  been  erected  into  a  state,  a  new  constitution  w7as  framed  for 
Massachusetts.  He  served  in  this  convention,  and  thus  aided  in  building 
both  the  constitutions  of  his  state. 

So  soon  as  he  reached  Quincy,  he  seemed  to  drop  into  the  condition 
described  by  the  poet : 

"  The  world  forgetting,  by  the  world  forgot;" 

bitter  in  the  estimate  of  his  wrongs  and  his  feeling  toward  his  enemies,  he 
was  not  the  recipient  during  the  first  year  of  more  than  one  hundred  let 
ters.  The  world  not  unnaturally  judged  harshly  of  his  action  in  deserting 
Washington  before  the  inauguration,  and  the  federal  party  made  him  the 
scapegoat  for  its  defeat.  His  feeling  toward  Jefferson  was  at  that  time  so 
bitter  that,  then  and  for  many  years,  there  was  no  communication  between 
them.  Finally,  with  the  death  of  old  parties  and  the  change  of  issues,  there 
came  to  be  a  very  different  feeling.  Adams  and  Jefferson  were  reconciled; 
the  world  regarded  the  wonderful  services  of  the  former  more  than  his 
errors,  and  his  time  was  again  filled  by  correspondence  and  visits  of  respect. 
He  lived  upon  his  farm  at  Quincy,  eking  out  his  slender  income  by  its  pro 
ducts,  and  living  a  life  of  which  one  day  wTas  so  like  another  that  one  is  at  a 
loss  to  describe  any.  He  lived  to  see  his  son  United  States  senator,  min 
ister  to  St.  James,  secretary  of  state,  President  of  the  United  States — to  see 
the  full  fruition  of  his  own  teaching,  and  the  carrying  of  his  name  in  high  and 
increasing  honor.  Feebleness  came  with  great  age  ;  his  wife  had  already 
found  rest  in  the  green  cemetery  at  Quincy.  Finally  approached  Inde 
pendence  day,  1826;  the  people  of  Quincy  sent  a  messenger  to  crave  his 
presence  at  their  celebration  ;  he  wras  too  weak  to  go  but  sent  a  toast, 
"  INDEPENDENCE  FOREVER."  This  was  drunk,  and  almost  before  the  shouts 
which  greeted  it  had  sunk  into  silence,  John  Adams,  with  the  words 
"  Thomas  Jefferson  still  survives,"  had  passed  away,  following,  by  but  a  few 
hours,  the  illustrious  man  who  commanded  his  last  thought. 

In  taking  leave  of  this  stalwart  figure  that  held  its  own  so  bravely 
among  the  early  statesmen  of  America,  it  is  proper  to  refer  somewhat  to 
the  personal  traits  and  gifts  of  character  that  made  him  what  he  was.  The 
testimony  of  his  son  and  grandson*  is,  apparently,  not  so  clouded  by  per 
sonal  affection  or  pride  of  family  as  to  injure  the  truth  or  honesty  of  the 
picture  : 

*  'The  Life  of    John    Adams.'      Begun  by  John  Quincy  Adams:    completed  by   Charles 
Francis  Adams. 


PERSONAL    TRAITS GIFTS    OF    CHARACTER.  353 

"  In  figure,  John  Adams  was  not  tall,  scarcely  exceeding  middle 
height,  but  of  a  stout,  well  knit  frame,  denoting  vigor  and  long  life,  yet  as 
he  grew  old,  inclining  more  and  more  to  corpulence.  His  head  was  large 
and  round,  with  a  wide  forehead  and  expanded  brows.  His  eye  was  mild 
and  benignant,  perhaps  even  humorous,  when  he  was  free  from  emotion, 
but  when  excited,  it  fully  expressed  the  vehemence  of  the  spirit  that 
stirred  within.  His  presence  was  grave  and  imposing  on  serious  occasions, 
but  not  unbending.  He  delighted  in  social  conversation,  in  which  he  was 
sometimes  tempted  to  what  he  called  rodomontade.  But  he  seldom 
fatigued  those  who  heard  him,  for  he  mixed  so  much  of  natural  vigor,  of 
fancy  and  of  illustration  with  the  stores  of  his  acquired  knowledge,  as  to 
keep  alive  their  interest  for  a  long  time.  His  affections  were  warm, 
though  not  habitually  demonstrated,  towards  his  relatives.  His  anger, 
when  thoroughly  roused,  was,  for  a  time,  extremely  violent,  but  when  it 
subsided  it  left  no  trace  of  malevolence  behind.  Nobody  could  see  him 
intimately  without  admiring  the  simplicity  and  truth  which  shone  in  his 
action,  and  standing  in  some  awe  at  the  reserved  power  of  his  will.  It 
was  in  these  moments  that  he  impressed  those  around  him  with  a  sense  of 
his  greatness.  ...  At  times  his  vehemence  would  become  so  great  as  to 
make  him  overbearing  and  unjust.  This  was  most  apt  to  happen  in  cases 
of  pretension  or  any  kind  of  wrong-doing.  Mr.  Adams  was  very  impa 
tient  of  cant,  of  sciolism,  or  of  opposition  to  any  of  his  deeply-established 
convictions.  Neither  was  his  indignation  at  all  graduated  to  the  character 
of  the  individuals  who  might  happen  to  excite  it.  It  had  little  respect  of 
persons,  and  would  hold  an  illiterate  man  or  a  raw  boy  to  as  heavy  a 
responsibility  for  uttering  a  crude  heresy,  as  the  strongest  thinker  or  the 
most  profound  scholar.  His  nature  was  too  susceptible  to  overtures  of 
sympathy  and  kindness,  for  it  tempted  him  to  trust  more  than  was  pru 
dent  in  the  professions  of  some  who  proved  unworthy  of  his  confidence. 
Ambitious,  in  one  sense,  he  certainly  was,  but  it  was  not  the  mere 
aspiration  for  place  or  power.  It  was  the  desire  to  excel  in  the  minds  of 
men,  by  the  development  of  high  qualities,  the  love,  in  short,  of  an  hon 
orable  fame,  that  stirred  him  to  exult  in  the  rewards  of  popular  favor. 
Yet  this  passion  never  tempted  him  to  change  a  course  of  action  or  to  sup 
press  a  serious  conviction  ;  to  bend  to  a  prevailing  error,  or  to  disavow  an- 
odious  truth. 

"  In  two  things  he  was  favored  above  most  men.  He  was  happily  mar 
ried  to  a  woman  whose  character  was  singularly  fitted  to  develop  every  good 
point  of  his ;  a  person  with  a  mind  capable  of  comprehending  his,  with  af 
fections  strong  enough  to  respond  to  his  sensibility,  with  a  sympathy  equal 
to  his  highest  aspirations,  and  yet  with  flexibility  sufficient  to  yield  to  his 
stronger  will  without  impairing  her  own  dignity.  In  this  blessed  relation 
he  was  permitted  to  continue  for  fifty-four  years,  embracing  far  more  than 


354  JOHN   ADAMS. 

the  whole  period  of  his  active  life  ;  and  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  to 
it  he  was  indebted  not  merely  for  the  domestic  happiness  which  ran  so  like 
a  thread  of  silver  through  the  most  troubled  currents  of  his  days,  but  for 
the  steady  and  unwavering  support  of  all  the  highest  purposes  of  his 
career.  .  .  .  The  other  extraordinary  blessing  was  the  possession  of 
a  son  who  fulfilled  in  his  career  all  the  most  sanguine  expectations  of  a 
father.  From  his  earliest  youth  John  Quincy  Adams  had  given  symptoms 
of  uncommon  promise,  and,  contrary  to  what  so  frequently  happens  in 
such  cases,  every  year,  as  it  passed  over  his  head,  only  tended  the  more 
to  confirm  the  hopes  that  had  been  raised  at  the  beginning.  .  .  .  And 
the  pleasure  was  reserved  to  the  father,  rarely  enjoyed  since  time  began,  of 
seeing  his  son  gradually  forcing  his  way,  by  his  unaided  abilities,  up  the 
steps  of  the  same  ascent  which  he  had  trod  before  him,  until  he  reached 
the  last  and  highest  which  his  country  could  supply.  .  .  .  And  when 
this  event  was  fully  accomplished,  whilst  the  son  was  yet  in  the  full  enjoy 
ment  of  his  great  dignity  so  honorably  acquired,  it  was  accorded  to  the 
old  patriarch  to  go  to  his  rest  on  the  day  above  all  other  days  in  the  year, 
which  was  the  most  imperishably  associated  with  his  fame.  Such  things 
are  not  often  read  of,  even  in  the  most  gorgeous  pictures  of  mortal  felicity 
painted  in  eastern  story.  They  go  far  to  relieve  the  darker  shadows  which 
fly  over  the  ordinary  paths  of  life,  and  to  hold  out  the  hope  that,  even 
under  the  present  imperfect  dispensation,  it  is  not  unreasonable  to  trust 
that  virtue  may  sometimes  meet  with  its  just  reward." 


THOMAS  JEFFERSON. 


THOMAS   JEFFERSON. 


CHAPTER  I. 

EARLY  LIFE-SERVES  IN   CONTINENTAL  CONGRESS. 

THE  life  of  Thomas  Jefferson  was,  in  a  degree,  associated  with  the  birth 
and  development  of  a  nation.  To  him  who  gave  to  a  distracted  coun 
try  that  incomparable  declaration  "that  all  men  are  created  equal;  that  they 
are  endowed  by  their  creator  with  inherent  and  inalienable  rights;  that 
among  these  are  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness;"  and  to  those 
associated  with  him,  was  due  the  step  that  at  once  sundered  the  bonds  which 
bound  the  colonies  to  the  mother  country,  and  prepared  a  way  for  progress 
from  the  confederacy  of  states  of  1/76  to  the  formation  and  development 
of  the  well-nigh  perfect  government  of  a  later  century.  Taking  life  in  hand 
as  each  subscribed  his  name  to  that  immortal  document,  he  hazarded  even 
more  than  death ;  should  the  elements  of  cohesion  between  the  states,  on 
which  all  depended  for  support  in  the  inevitable  contest  already  begun, 
prove  inadequate  to  unity  of  action,  not  only  would  life  be  forfeited,  but 
property  confiscated,  and  families  relegated  to  disgrace  and  ignominy. 
With  what  sublime  courage,  then,  did  they  risk  everything  in  making 
a  stand  for  the  rights  of  all. 

Encompassed  by  perils  on  every  side,  clear-headed  statesmen  were 
needed  to  direct  the  new  ship  of  state  into  smooth  waters,  steering  clear  of 
breakers  and  rocks  on  either  side,  as  she  threaded  the  narrow  and  tortuous 
channel  that  led  to  the  open  sea  of  prosperity.  In  Thomas  Jefferson, 
Samuel  and  John  Adams,  Patrick  Henry,  George  Washington,  Benjamin 
Franklin,  the  Lees,  the  Randolphs,  and  all  that  splendid  fellowship  that 
stood  shoulder  to  shoulder  in  the  fight,  were  found  safe  counsellors,  pure 


3 $6  THOMAS   JEFFERSON. 

statesmen,  unflinching  patriots,  and  men  with  no  ambition  that  conflicted 
with  their  country's  good.  No  one  among  them  better  deserved  the  honor 
of  his  countrymen  than  did  Thomas  Jefferson.  No  one  did  more  arduous 
service  in  every  stage  of  the  contest  than  did  he.  With  what  unwavering 
fidelity  he  served  in  the  legislature  of  his  native  state,  in  the  halls  of  the 
Continental  Congress,  as  governor  of  Virginia,  as  an  ambassador  to  foreign 
courts,  and  chiefest  of  all,  as  the  Executive  of  the  republic  he  had  helped 
to  form, — all  this  can  be  but  briefly  told  in  these  pages. 

That  Jefferson  was  a  man  imperfectly  understood  by  those  not  person 
ally  and  intimately  acquainted  with  him,  is  certain.  While  his  life  was 
spent  in  the  service  of  his  country,  and  his  every  effort  directed  toward  her 
welfare,  men  who  differed  from  him  regarding  the  means  to  be  employed, 
were  unceasing  in  devices  to  defeat  his  plans.  By  deepest  persuasion  a 
republican,  he  met  the  opponents  of  his  views  with  moderation  that 
accorded  well  with  the  spirit  of  the  man.  Never  violent  in  his  utterances, 
he  yet  pressed  his  points  with  courage  and  fearlessness,  and  left  a  record 
that  will  endure  while  the  union  of  states  shall  exist.  The  spirit  of  the  time 
and  the  environment  of  this  early  band  of  patriots,  were  calculated  to  the 
highest  development  of  the  character  of  men,  and  their  effect  is  evinced 
in  the  lives  of  his  contemporaries — lives  like  his  own,  marked  not  less  by 
honesty  and  bravery,  than  by  the  wonderful  wisdom  which  directed  the 
infant  struggles  of  their  country. 

Thomas  Jefferson  was,  by  education  and  natural  endowment,  fitted  to 
be  a  leader  in  the  stirring  contests  of  his  time,  as  he  would  be  pre-eminent 
did  he  live  in  this  era  of  the  world's  history.  Great  intellects  then  directed 
the  course  of  the  state, — intellects  governing  men  of  principle,  with  aims 
above  the  measures  of  party,  to  which  they  owed  small  allegiance.  States 
men  were  born  and  educated  to  the  duties  of  life,  and  the  cares  of  orifice 
came  to  them  unsought.  Men  like  Washington,  Adams,  and  Jefferson 
would  scorn  to  stoop  to  the  petty  expedients  adopted  by  the  men  of  to-day 
in  their  greed  and  ambition  for  place.  They  scorned  even  the  use  of  per 
sonal  influence  in  their  favor,  and  were  content  to  abide  the  verdict  of  the 
people  as  to  their  merits.  A  man  the  peer  of  any  man,  Thomas  Jefferson 
took  the  place  assigned  him  by  the  suffrages  of  the  people,  while  yet  young 
in  years.  Necessarily  many  of  the  views  and  actions  of  the  man,  in  his  well 
nigh  fifty  years'  connection  with  the  public  service,  came  under  adverse 
criticism  from  those  who  honestly  differed  with  him,  yet  time  has  justified 
the  wisdom  of  the  greater  number  of  these  acts.  Of  that  life,  passed  amid 
the  tumults  of  war,  and  in  the  quiet  of  peace,  let  what  follows  tell  the  story. 

The  settlement  of  Virginia  was  begun  at  Jamestown,  in  1607.  Within 
a  few  years  isolated  communities  were  gathered  at  various  places,  and 
during  the  century  that  followed  the  English  obtained  a  strong  foothold, 
gradually  forcing  the  aborigines  toward  the  mountains  by  the  power  of  a 


EARLY    LIFE. 


357 


superior  civilization.  It  was  soon  after  the  close  of  the  first  century  of 
settlement  in  America — in  1612 — that  the  first  of  the  Jefferson  family 
arrived.  That  the  progenitor  of  the  Jeffersons  was  a  person  of  influence 
among  his  fellows  is  apparent  from  the  fact  that  the  name  occurs  in  the  list 
of  the  twenty-two  members  of  the  first  general  assembly  of  Virginia,  which 
met  in  Jamestown,  in  the  year  1619 — the  first  legislative  body  ever  con 
vened  in  America.  Of  the  after  life  of  this  Jefferson  and  of  his  descendants 
nothing  is  known.  More  than  a  century  later  the  grandfather  of  Thomas 
Jefferson  lived  at  Osbornes,  in  Chesterfield  county,  and  there  reared  a  family 
consisting  of  three  sons :  Thomas,  who  died  young ;  Field,  who  settled  on 
the  waters  of  the  Roanoke  and  died,  leaving  numerous  descendants  ;  and 
Peter,  who  settled  in  Albemarle  county,  where  he  made  a  home  which  he 
called  Shadwell,  after  the  parish  in  England  where  formerly  lived  his  wife. 
Peter  Jefferson  was  born  February  29,  1/08,  and  in  1739  married 
Jane,  daughter  of  Isham  Randolph,  whose  ancestors  had  early  settled  at 
Dungeness,  in  the  county  of  Goochland,  Virginia.  Mrs.  Jefferson  was  aged 
nineteen  at  the  time  of  her  marriage,  was  well  educated  for  the  time — when 
a  very  simple  course  of  lessons  was  deemed  sufficient  for  a  woman — and  was 
a  fit  companion  to  share  the  home  and  life  of  the  energetic  Peter  Jefferson. 
As  a  young  man  he  was  possessed  of  little  more  than  the  rudiments  of  an 
education  ;  but  strong  in  mind,  sound  in  judgment,  and  eager  in  the  pur 
suit  of  knowledge,  he  read  and  improved  himself  so  that  eventually  he 
became  prominent  and  influential  in  the  province.  Some  years  previous 
to  his  marriage  he  was  chosen,  with  Joshua  Fry,  professor  of  mathe 
matics  in  the  college  of  William  and  Mary,  as  a  commission  to  define  the 
boundary-line  between  Virginia  and  North  Carolina,  which  survey  had  been 
begun  by  Colonel  Byrd.  So  satisfactorily  were  these  duties  performed  that 
the  same  gentlemen  were  afterward  employed  to  make  the  first  map  of  Vir 
ginia  that  had  ever  been  made  from  definite  surveys.  No  difficulty  was 
experienced  in  performing  that  part  of  the  work  to  the  east  of  the  Blue 
Ridge,  but  the  portion  to  the  west  of  that  range  was  little  known  and 
required  weary  weeks  of  travel  and  unremitting  labor  to  make  it  in  any 
respect  complete.  This  work  gave  him  a  very  correct  idea  of  the  topo 
graphy  and  soils  of  the  province,  and  decided  him  in  the  location  of  a  home 
on  the  Rivanna  river,  a  tributary  of  the  James.  Here  he  entered  a  patent  for 
one  thousand  acres  of  land,  his  intimate  friend,  William  Randolph,  selecting 
twenty-four  hundred  acres  adjoining.  The  land  Mr.  Jefferson  had  chosen 
possessing  no  eligible  site  for  a  house,  he  purchased  from  Mr.  Randolph 
four  hundred  acres,  the  price  being,  as  stated  in  the  deed  still  in  posses 
sion  of  the  family,  "  Henry  Weatherbourne's  biggest  bowl  of  arrack  punch." 
On  the  land  thus  acquired  he  built  a  plain,  weather-boarded  house,  and  to 
this  place  brought  his  bride  soon  after  marriage.  They  were  among  the 
first  to  settle  in  this  portion  of  the  country,  and  were  subject  to  all  the 


,353  THOMAS    JEFFERSON. 

inconveniences  arising  from  their  isolation.  Here  they  lived  six  years, 
when  they  removed  to  the  home  of  Colonel  William  Randolph,  of  Tuckahoe, 
who  on  his  decease  had  appointed  Peter  Jefferson  to  the  guardianship  of  his 
son,  Thomas  Mann  Randolph.  To  this  trust  he  remained  faithful  seven 
years,  then  returned  to  Shadwell,  where  he  died,  August  17,  1757,  leaving 
a  widow — who  lived  until  1776 — with  six  daughters  and  two  sons. 

Peter  Jefferson  had  accumulated  a  large  landed  estate,  which  at  his 
death  \vas  apportioned  between  his  two  sons,  as  was  the  law  in  those  days, 
the  daughters  being  left  dependent  on  the  generosity  of  the  heirs  to  the 
property.  To  his  younger  son  he  left  the  estate  on  the  James  river,  called 
Snowdon,  after  the  supposed  birth-place  of  the  ancestors  of  the  family,  near 
the  mquntain  of  that  name  in  Wales.  To  his  oldest  son,  Thomas  Jefferson, 
he  left  the  family  home  of  Shadwell. 

Thomas  Jefferson  was  born  at  Shadwell,  April  13,  1743.  The  death  of 
his  father  left  him,  then  a  youth  of  fourteen,  the  owner  of  a  large  estate, 
beside  a  considerable  number  of  negro  slaves.  From  his  earliest  youth  he 
received  careful  training,  mental  as  well  as  physical.  When  but  five  years 
of  age  he  was  placed  in  the  family  of  Rev.  William  Douglas,  where  he 
acquired  a  primary  education,  and  also  pursued  the  study  of  the  Greek, 
Latin,  and  French  languages.  He  inherited  from  his  father  that  inordinate 

o          o 

thirst  for  knowledge  which  he  pursued  with  avidity  throughout  his  busy 
career.  Returning  home  on  the  death  of  his  father,  he  soon  after  became 
a  pupil  of  Rev.  Mr.  Maury,  an  enthusiastic  and  correct  classical  scholar. 
Under  such  wise  tuition  he  made  good  progress,  and  acquired  a  taste 
for  the  writings  of  the  ancient  philosophers  and  poets  that  he  retained 
during  life.  Two  years  were  thus  spent  in  the  most  profitable  manner,  at 
the  end  of  which,  in  the  spring  of  1760,  when  seventeen  years  of  age,  he 
was  enabled  to  enter  the  college  of  William  and  Mary.  He  continued  in 
college  two  years,  and  while  here  it  was  his  good  fortune  to  be  brought  into 
intimate  association  with  Dr.  William  Small,  a  learned  Scotchman,  at  that 
time  professor  of  mathematics  in  the  college.  A  mutual  attraction  drew 
these  two  together,  and  the  time  not  occupied  in  the  school-room,  was 
passed  in  daily  companionship.  This  resulted  in  giving  a  broader  scope  to 
the  thought  of  the  pupil,  enlarged  his  views,  and  encouraged  him  to  devote 
more  time  to  abstruse  and  metaphysical  studies.  From  Dr.  Small  he 
obtained  his  first  insight  into  the  realm  of  science  and  philosophy.  The 
chair  of  philosophy  becoming  vacant  soon  after  Jefferson  entered  the  col 
lege,  his  friend  and  teacher  was  appointed  to  its  duties,  and  delivered  the 
first  lectures  on  ethics,  rhetoric,  and  belles-lettres  ever  given  in  the  institution. 
Dr.  Small  occupied  the  chair  of  philosophy  barely  two  years,  when  he 
returned  to  Scotland,  first,  however,  procuring  for  his  favorite  admission  to 
the  law  office  of  George  Wythe,  who  afterwards  became  chancellor  of  the 
state.  Mr.  Wythe  introduced  Jefferson  to  the  acquaintance  and  friendship 


EARLY    LIFE.  359 

of  Governor  Fauquier.  To  the  intelligent  conversation  of  these  gentlemen 
was  the  young  man  much  indebted  for  the  early  impressions  that  afterward 
developed  into  habits  of  thought  and  life,  and  shaped  his  career. 

At  this  time  Mr.  \Vythe  was  about  thirty-five  years  of  age,  ardent  in 
temperament,  and  with  ideas  in  advance  of  his  time.  He  early  took  the 
ground  that  "the  only  link  of  political  union  between  the  colonies  and 
Great  Britain,  was  the  identity  of  the  executive;  that  parliament  had  no 
more  authority  over  us  than  we  over  them,  and  that  we  were  co-ordinate 
nations  with  Great  Britain  and  Hanover. "  lie  was  chosen  a  member  of 
Congress,  and  in  1776  signed  the  Declaration  of  Independence.  It  was  but 
natural  that  the  impressible  nature  of  Jefferson  should  be  infused  with  the 
spirit  of  his  preceptor  in  la\v.  In  1767,  under  the  instruction  of  Mr.  Wythe, 
Jefferson  was  inducted  into  the  legal  practice  at  the  bar  of  the  general  court, 
in  which  practice  he  continued  until  the  beginning  of  hostilities  connected 
with  the  Revolution  closed  all  courts  of  justice.  During  the  period  of  his 
continuous  practice  of  the  law  he  acquired  very  considerable  reputation, 
and  there  still  exists  a  digest  of  reports  of  adjudged  cases  in  the  higher 
courts  of  Virginia,  as  a  monument  to  his  painstaking  care  and  labor  in  early 
life. 

The  assiduous  stud}*  and  labor  of  Jefferson  had  developed  a  naturally 
strong  and  vigorous  intellect  to  quick  and  mature  habits  of  thought,  and  his 
practice  in  the  courts  of  justice  had  brought  him  into  intimate  acquaintance 
with  his  fellow-citizens  of  all  degrees.  So  well  were  all  agreed  upon  his 
mental  and  moral  qualifications,  that,  in  1760,  he  was  called  by  the  count}"  in 
which  he  lived,  to  represent  it  in  the  legislature'.  In  that  body  he  soon 
attained  prominence,  and  was  recngni/ed  as  one  holding  advanced  views 
upon  subjects  appertaining  to  the  present  and  future  welfare  of  the  province. 
It  was  while  yet  a  young  member  of  the  legislature  that  he  introduced  a  res 
olution  providing  for  the  emancipation  of  slaves,  but  public  opinion  was 
not  educated  to  look  with  favor  upon  a  measure  that  promised  to  curtail 
comfort  and  ease. 

At  the  time  of  the  promulgation  of  the  stamp  act,  Mr.  Jefferson  was  a 
student  at  law,  and  during  the  discussion  of  the  resolutions  of  1765,111 
regard  to  that  oppressive  measure,  from  the  door  of  the  lobby  to  the  house 
of  burgesses  he  listened  with  rapt  attention  to  the  impassioned  utterances 
of  Patrick  Henry,  which  were  such  words  as  he  never  heard  from  any  other 
man  He  said  of  them  :  "  lie  appeared  to  me  to  speak  as  Homer  wrote." 
That  Jefferson  was  deeply  impressed  with  the  injustice  of  Great  Britain 
toward  the  colonies  is  evident  from  his  own  words  :  "The  colonies  were 
taxed  internally  and  externally ;  their  essential  interests  were  sacrificed  to 
individuals  in  Great  Britain;  their  legislatures  suspended;  charters  annulled; 
trials  by  jury  taken  away  ;  their  persons  subjected  to  transportation  across 
the  Atlantic,  and  to  trial' by  foreign  judicatories ;  their  applications  for 


360  THOMAS   JEFFERSON. 

redress  thought  beneath  answer ;  themselves  published  as  cowards  in  the 
councils  of  their  mother  country  and  courts  of  Europe ;  armed  troops  sent 
amongst  them  to  enforce  submission  to  these  violences ;  and  actual  hostili 
ties  commenced  against  them.  No  alternative  was  presented  but  resistance 
or  unconditional  submission.  Between  these  there  could  be  no  hesitation. 
They  closed  in  the  appeal  to  arms." 

In  May,  1769,  Lord  Botetourt,  then  governor  of  Virginia,  called  a 
session  of  the  general  assembly,  of  which  Jefferson  had  but  lately  become  a 
member.  The  joint  resolutions  of  the  houses  of  lords  and  commons  on  the 
proceedings  in  Massachusetts,  were  made  public  in  the  assembly,  and  coun 
ter  resolutions  and  an  address  to  the  king  were  adopted.  The  Virginia 
assembly  espoused  the  cause  of  Massachusetts,  and  was  dissolved  by  the 
royal  governor.  The  following  day  the  members  met  in  a  public  room  in 
the  Raleigh  tavern,  and  formed  a  voluntary  convention ;  drew  up  an  agree 
ment  pledging  themselves  against  the  use  of  any  articles  of  merchandise 
imported  from  Great  Britain,  and  recommended  the  people  to  follow  the 
same  course.  The  convention  then  adjourned,  members  repaired  to  their 
respective  counties,  and  were  almost  unanimously  re-elected  to  the  legisla 
ture  ;  the  only  exceptions  being  the  few  that  had  dissented  from  the  resolu 
tions,  whose  places  were  filled  by  men  in  full  sympathy  with  the  cause  of 
freedom  and  equal  rights. 

Following  these  events  a  season  of  apathy  pervaded  the  people 
for  a  number  of  years.  There  was  still  a  recognition  of  the  divine  right 
of  the  king,  and  of  attachment  to  the  mother  country.  Great  wrongs 
were  endured  before  a  loyal  people  was  roused  to  open  rebellion  against 
one  they  deemed  a  lawful  sovereign.  The  duty  on  tea  still  remained 
unrepealed,  and  the  act  of  parliament  declaring  the  right  to  bind  the  col 
onies  by  its  laws,  in  all  cases,  was  suspended  over  them.  The  claim  by 
parliament  of  the  right  of  sending  persons  to  England  for  trial  for  offenses 
committed  in  the  colonies,  was  an  act  that  aroused  the  people  from  their 
seeming  apathy.  With  no  race  under  the  sun  are  the  principles  of  justice 
held  in  greater  veneration  than  among  English-speaking  peoples.  Virgin 
ians  were  not  slow  to  action  in  this  case,  although  the  serious  act  of  injus 
tice  in  question  was  committed  against  another  province.  The  house  of 
burgesses  included  many  fiery  young  spirits  who  would  not  be  held  back  by 
the  dilatoriness  and  lack  of  enthusiasm  of  their  elders.  A  few  of  the 
younger  members,  including  Thomas  Jefferson,  Patrick  Henry,  Richard 
Henry  Lee,  Francis  L.  Lee,  Mr.  Carr,  and  perhaps  two  or  three  others, 
met  one  evening  in  the  early  part  of  the  session,  at  a  private  room  in  the 
Raleigh  tavern,  to  consult  on  the  then  existing  state  of  things.  It  was 
unanimously  their  opinion  that  an  understanding  should  be  reached  with  the 
other  colonies  in  a  consideration  of  the  claims  of  Great  Britain,  and  an  uni 
form  course  of  action  decided  upon.  Resolutions  were  drawn  calling  for  a 


EARLY    LIFE.  361 

convention  of  delegates  from  all  the  colonies,  and  the  appointment  of  a  com 
mittee  of  correspondence.  These  resolutions  were  presented  to  the  house  by 
Mr.  Carr,  brother-in-law  of  Jefferson,  and  immediately  agreed  upon.  Peyton 
Randolph,  the  speaker,  was  appointed  chairman  of  the  committee.  Upon 
knowledge  of  this  action  reaching  the  governor,  then  Lord  Dunmore,  he 
dissolved  the  assembly.  The  committee  met  the  following  day,  prepared 
circular  letters  to  the  speakers  of  the  houses  in  each  colony,  and  copies  of 
the  resolution  were  forwarded  to  them  by  the  chairman,  by  express.  At 
about  the  same  time  the  state  of  Massachusetts  prepared  similar  circular 
letters,  to  be  sent  to  towns  within  that  province,  and  also  to  other  provinces. 

The  promulgation  of  the  Boston  port  bill,  closing  that  port  on  the 
1st  of  June,  1774,  to  the  entry  of  all  articles  of  merchandise,  combined 
with  other  acts  of  injustice  and  oppression,  capped  the  measure  of  iniquity 
proceeding  from  the  government  of  Great  Britain.  This  measure  would 
deprive  the  people  of  Boston  of  their  trade,  and  involve  many  of  the  citi 
zens  in  utter  ruin.  The  primary  cause  of  its  passage  lay  in  the  action  of 
those  citizens  who  had  assembled  in  disguise,  boarded  two  vessels  laden  with 
tea,  and  cast  their  cargoes  overboard  into  the  bay.  The  act  of  retaliation 
condemned  the  entire  mercantile  interests  of  Boston  to  extinction  to  punish 
a  few  persons.  The  text  of  this  bill  was  received  in  early  spring,  while  the 
assembly  was  yet  in  session,  and  excited  the  sympathies  of  the  members. 
The  leadership  of  the  house  now  devolving  on  the  younger  members,  Pat 
rick  Henry,  Richard  Henry  Lee,  Francis  L.  Lee,  Thomas  Jefferson,  and 
several  others,  met  in  the  council  chamber  and  determined  upon  a  bold  and 
unequivocal  stand  in  support  of  Massachusetts  in  this  emergency.  Refer 
ence  was  had  to  the  library  contained  in  this  room,  for  authorities  and 
precedents  in  the  course  they  were  about  to  take.  No  parallel  case  had 
arisen  for  more  than  a  century,  and  before  entering  upon  steps  that  might 
result  in  revolution  and  war,  grave  counsel  was  requisite.  It  was  resolved 
that  the  1st  day  of  June,  the  day  on  which  the  port  bill  was  to  go  into 
effect,  be  set  apart  as  a  day  of  fasting,  humiliation,  and  prayer,  "devoutly 
to  implore  the  divine  interposition,  for  averting  the  heavy  calamities  which 
threatened  destruction  to  their  civil  rights,  and  the  evils  of  a  civil  war ;  and 
to  give  them  one  heart  and  one  mind  to  oppose  by  all  just  and  proper 
means,  every  injury  to  American  rights."  This  resolution  was  offered  to 
the  house  the  next  morning,  by  Mr.  Nicholas,  a  man  of  strong  religious 
convictions,  and  was  passed  without  opposition. 

These  proceedings  had  the  effect  greatly  to  exasperate  Lord  Dunmore, 
who  a  second  time  dissolved  the  assembly.  The  members  again  met  in 
their  private  capacities,  and  prepared  a  memorial  addressed  to  the  people, 
setting  forth  the  unjust  course  of  the  governor  in  thus  suppressing  the  legis 
lative  power,  preventing  the  taking  measures  to  secure  the  rights  and  liber 
ties  of  the  province ;  and  that  they  believed  a  systematic  effort  was  being 


362  THOMAS    JEFFERSON. 

made  to  reduce  the  inhabitants  of  the  American  colonies  to  a  condition  of 
slavery.  An  association  was  formed,  and  the  committee  of  correspondence 
instructed  to  propose  to  the  similar  committees  in  other  colonies,  the 
appointment  of  deputies  to  meet  in  a  general  congress,  annually,  at  such 
place  as  should  be  deemed  convenient,  to  consider  the  means  necessary  to 
be  adopted  in  the  establishment  of  universal  liberty.  It  was  declared  that 
an  attack  on  any  one  colony  should  be  deemed  an  attack  on  all,  and  should 
constitute  cause  for  definite  concerted  action.  These  events  took  place  in 
May,  1774,  and  it  was  recommended  that  the  several  counties  of  Virginia 
elect  delegates  to  meet  at  Williamsburg  August  1st,  to  consider  the  state 
of  affairs  in  their  own  colony,  and  appoint  delegates  to  a  general  congress, 
all  which  was  acceded  to.  Philadelphia  was  selected  as  the  place  of  meeting 
for  the  congress. 

The  members  of  the  dissolved  assembly  then  returned  to  their  homes, 
and  invited  the  clergy  to  meet  with  the  people  on  the  istof  June,  in  accord 
ance  with  the  spirit  of  the  resolution  appointing  that  day  as  one  of  prayer 
and  humiliation.  Great  anxiety  and  alarm  were  manifested  at  these  as 
semblies,  the  people  in  remote  districts,  far  from  the  scene  of  disturbance, 
hardly  comprehending  the  necessity  for  the  course  taken.  The  events  of 
the  day  aroused  them  to  action,  and  nearly  all  accepted  the  situation,  and 
entered  heartily  into  the  work  of  preparation.  Delegates  were  selected  in 
the  different  counties,  Mr.  Jefferson  being  chosen  to  represent  Albemarle. 
With  the  enthusiasm  already  displayed  in  resisting  the  tyranny  of  Great 
Britain,  he  now  entered  into  the  cause,  and  drew  up  instructions  to  be  given 
delegates  to  the  congress.  In  these  he  took  the  ground  "that  the  relation 
between  Great  Britain  and  these  colonies  was  exactly  the  same  as  that  of 
England  and  Scotland  after  the  accession  of  James,  and  until  the  union,  and 
the  same  as  her  present  relations  with  Hanover,  having  the  same  executive 
chief,  but  no  other  necessary  political  connection  ;  and  that  our  emigration  to 
this  country  gave  her  no  more  rights  over  us,  than  the  emigrations  of  the 
Danes  and  Saxons  gave  to  the  present  authorities  of  the  mother  country  over 
England."  Two  copies  of  these  instructions  were  made,  one  of  which  he 
caused  to  be  sent  to  Patrick  Henry,  the  other  under  cover  to  Peyton  Ran 
dolph,  who  was  chairman  of  the  convention.  Mr.  Jefferson  himself  set  out 
to  attend  the  debate,  but  was  taken  quite  ill  while  on  the  way,  and  was  unable 
to  proceed.  Mr.  Henry  was  not  much  disposed  toward  reading,  and  if  he 
ever  perused  the  copy  sent  him  gave  no  evidence  of  it,  and  never  mentioned 
the  matter  to  the  author.  Mr.  Randolph  announced  to  the  convention  that 
he  had  received  such  a  communication  from  a  member  who  was  detained  by 
sickness,  and  laid  the  document  on  the  table,  whence  it  was  taken  and  read 
by  many  members,  approved  by  some,  and  thought  too  bold  and  aggressive 
by  others.  The  Lees,  Randolph,  Nicholas,  Pendleton,  and  Dickinson 
believed  England  possessed  the  right  to  regulate  commerce,  and  impose 


SERVES    IN    THE    CONTINENTAL    CONGRESS.  36$ 

duties  for  its  regulation,  but  not  for  the  purpose  of  revenue.  Mr.  Jefferson 
held  no  foundation  existed  for  such  claim,  expatriation  being  a  natural  right, 
not  to  be  interfered  with.  Although  many  differed  with  the  views  taken  by 
the  author,  the  document  was  published  by  the  convention  under  the  title : 
A  Summary  View  of  the  Rights  of  British  America.  The  authorship  of 
this  pamphlet  was  boldly  avouched  by  Mr.  Jefferson,  who  was  thereupon 
threatened  by  Lord  Dunmore  with  arrest  and  trial  for  high  treason.  Copies 
found  their  way  to  England,  where  the  matter  was  taken  up  by  the  opposi 
tion.  Edmund  Burke  changed  its  meaning  to  answer  his  purpose,  and 
several  editions  were  printed,  which  had  a  large  circulation.  It  had  the 
effect  to  include  the  name  of  Thomas  Jefferson,  together  with  those  of 
Hancock,  John  and  Samuel  Adams,  Peyton  Randolph,  Patrick  Henry,  and 
others  to  the  number  of  a  score  or  more,  in  a  bill  of  attainder  introduced 
into  one  of  the  houses  of  parliament,  but  which  subsequent  events  caused 
to  be  dropped. 

The  convention  assembled  the  1st  of  August,  renewed  the  association, 
appointed  delegates  to  the  congress,  and  gave  them  very  temperate  instruc 
tions,  carefully  worded,  defining  the  part  they  were  to  take.  The  action  of 
the  convention  in  framing  more  moderate  instructions  to  the  delegates  to 
the  congress  received  Mr.  Jefferson's  cordial  approval,  afterthought  convinc 
ing  him  that  his  draft,  hastily  written,  was  too  far  in  advance  of  public  sen 
timent  at  the  time.  The  delegates  appointed  by  the  convention  were  Peyton 
Randolph,  Richard  Henry  Lee,  George  Washington,  Patrick  Henry, 
Richard  Bland,  Benjamin  Harrison,  and  Kdwurd  Pendleton.  The  congress 
met  on  the  1st  of  September,  ami  remained  in  session  until  the  26th  of 
October,  at  which  time  it  adjourned  to  meet  again  on  the  loth  of  May 
following. 

The  Virginia  convention,  which  was  now  thoroughly  organized,  met 
again  in  March,  1775,  approved  the  action  of  its  delegates  to  the  Colonial 
Congress,  and  re-appointed  them  for  the  Ma}*  session.  It  being  probable 
that  Mr.  Randolph  would  be  called  from  the  chair  in  Congress  to  attend 
the  general  assembly,  Mr.  Jefferson  was  appointed  his  alternate. 

The  general  assembly,  convened  by  Lord  Dunmore  in  June,  1775,  was 
called  for  the  purpose  of  receiving  the  proposals  of  Lord  North,  looking  to 
a  peaceable  settlement  of  the  questions  at  issue.  As  was  expected,  Mr. 
Randolph  attended,  as  speaker  of  the  house,  and,  fearing  the  sentiments 
and  wishes  of  Congress  might  not  harmonize  with  the  resolutions  proposed 
in  assembly,  he  requested  Mr.  Jefferson  to  prepare  an  answer  to  the  proposi 
tion  of  Lord  North.  This  answer  was  presented  to  the  assembly,  and, 
though  it  was  severely  condemned  by  some  of  the  members  who  were  fav 
orable  to  the  cause  of  the  king,  it  was,  after  a  few  minor  amendments,  almost 
unanimously  passed.  The  powerful  influence  of  the  speaker,  and  of  Mr. 
Jefferson  himself,  had  much  to  do  in  procuring  its  passage.  Immediately 


364  THOMAS   JEFFERSON. 

after  action  had  been  taken  on  this  question,  Jefferson  repaired  to  Philadel 
phia,  and  conveyed  to  Congress  the  first  intimation  of  the  reply  made  by 
the  Virginia  assembly  to  the  proposition  for  a  peaceable  settlement.  This 
was  entirely  approved  by  Congress.  On  the  2ist  of  June,  Mr.  Jefferson 
took  his  seat  in  that  body.  On  the  24th  the  report  of  a  committee 
appointed  to  give  cause  for  the  taking  up  of  arms,  was  presented,  but,  prov 
ing  unsatisfactory,  was  not  accepted.  The  committee  was  continued,  Mr. 
Jefferson  and  Mr.  Dickinson  being  added  to  its  number.  Several  drafts  had 
been  submitted  in  the  committee.  The  first,  by  Mr.  Lee,  was  disapproved 
and  re-committed.  The  second  was  drawn  by  John  Jay,  and,  though 
accepted  in  the  committee,  was  disapproved  by  the  house.  Mr.  Jefferson 
drew  the  next  resolution,  which  proved  too  strong  for  Mr.  Dickinson,  who 
was  still  in  hope  of  a  reconciliation.  He  was,  therefore,  requested  to  pre 
pare  a  resolution,  which  the  committee  accepted,  and  the  Congress 
approved,  though  it  did  not  at  all  meet  the  views  of  most  of  the  members; 
yet,  out  of  respect  to  Mr.  Dickinson,  who  was  an  able,  if  a  too  scrupulous 
man,  it  was  adopted.  It  was  couched  in  a  humble  tone  of  submission  that 
ill  accorded  with  the  spirit  of  men  stung  to  the  quick  by  the  unprovoked 
and  unmerited  oppression  of  the  crown. 

The  proposition  of  Lord  North  was  not  submitted  to  a  committee 
until  the  22d  of  July,  at  which  time  Dr.  Franklin,  Mr.  Adams,  Richard 
Henry  Lee,  and  Thomas  Jefferson  were  appointed  to  take  it  under  advise 
ment.  The  reply  of  the  Virginia  assembly  had  been  approved,  and  by 
request  of  the  other  members  of  the  committee  Mr.  Jefferson  prepared  a 
report  on  the  subject,  to  be  presented  to  the  Congress.  As  a  consequence 
there  was  much  similarity  between  the  two  reports. 

On  the  nth  of  August  Mr.  Jefferson  was  elected  delegate  to  the  third 
Congress,  and  during  the  following  winter  took  an  active  part  in  its  delibera 
tions.  The  opening  of  the  year  1776  showed  a  change  in  the  minds  of 
many  of  the  political  leaders.  There  had  been  a  feeling  of  hope  that  some 
settlement  might  be  attained  that  would  not  change  the  existing  system. 
A  strong  feeling  of  attachment  to  old  institutions  had  a  hold  on  many, 
and  was  about  to  be  expelled.  A  year  and  a  half  had  passed  since  the  first 
open  manifestation  of  resistance  to  oppression,  and  since  the  erection 
of  entrenchments  about  Boston  conveyed  to  the  colonists  the  knowl 
edge  that  England  was  determined  on  coercive  measures  to  reduce  them 
to  subjection.  The  battles  of  Concord  and  Lexington  had  been  fought, 
privateers  had  been  equipped  and  naval  engagements  had  taken  place.  A 
spirit  of  action  now  began  to  pervade  all  classes,  from  the  lowest  to  the 
highest,  and  stronger  means  of  defense  were  called  for.  The  colonies  were 
still  bound  to  the  mother  country  by  ties  that  seemed  almost  indissoluble. 
Yet  a  change  was  coming.  Already  the  first  notes  were  heard  in  the  air. 
The  influence  of  men  like  Samuel  Adams,  John  Hancock,  John  Jay,  Patrick 


SERVES  IN  THE  CONTINENTAL  CONGRESS.  36$ 

Henry,  Thomas  Jefferson,  and  many  others  of  equal  calibre,  was  felt  for 
independence.  Every  course  but  sundering  the  ties  that  bound  the  country 
to  Great  Britain  had  been  employed  in  vain.  A  decided  stand  must  soon 
be  taken,  the  bonds  broken,  a  leap  made  for  the  life  or  death  of  a  nation. 
The  result  of  the  struggle  depended  on  immediate  action.  No  more  com 
promise  with  stern  necessity  could  be  employed.  Action  took  the  place  of 
lethargy.  The  subject  of  a  declaration  of  independence  was  in  every  man's 
thought,  and  was  discussed  from  every  point.  The  colonial  assemblies 
reviewed  the  situation,  and  that  of  Virginia  declared  for  an  immediate  with 
drawal  from  allegiance  to  the  crown,  henceforth  and  forever.  Jefferson's 
whole  soul  was  engaged  in  the  struggle.  His  was  a  mind  in  many  cases  in 
advance  of  the  times.  While  everything  received  careful  consideration,  and 
with  him  was  viewed  from  all  points,  it  was  well  that  the  counsel  of  others, 
no  abler  than  he,  and  not  so  progressive,  was  invoked.  Thoroughly  imbued 
with  the  character  and  principles  of  a  statesman,  and  fitted  as  he  was  by 
education  and  natural  ability  for  leadership  in  a  grand  cause,  he  now  pushed 
forward,  aiming  not  for  personal  aggrandizement  but  for  the  good  of  the 
country  of  which  he  was  a  citizen. 


THOMAS   JEFFERSON. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  DECLARATION  OF  INDEPENDENCE— SERVICE  IN  STATE  LEGISLATURE. 

ON  the  1 5th  of  May,  1776,  the  delegates  of  Virginia  in  the  Congress 
were  instructed  to  propose  a  declaration  that  the  colonies  be  inde 
pendent  of  the  dominion  of  Great  Britain.  On  June  7th  the  delegates  com 
plied  with  their  instructions,  but  other  business  being  before  the  Congress, 
the  subject  was  laid  over  until  another  day.  On  Saturday,  June  8th,  it  was 
taken  into  consideration,  the  house  resolving  itself  into  a  committee  of  the 
whole  for  discussion.  Two  days  were  devoted  to  the  question,  in  which  was 
developed  the  fact  that  certain  of  the  delegates,  though  friends  to  the  meas 
ure,  and  believing  it  impossible  again  to  unite  with  Great  Britain,  were 
themselves  opposed  to  immediate  action.  Besides,  the  provinces  of  New 
York,  New  Jersey,  Pennsylvania,  Delaware,  Maryland,  and  South  Carolina, 
were  not  yet  ripe  for  such  declaration,  and  had  not  so  advised  their  dele 
gates.  It  was  therefore  thought  prudent  to  postpone  a  final  decision  until 
July  ist.  That  there  might  be  as  little  delay  as  possible,  a  committee,  con 
sisting  of  John  Adams,  Benjamin  Franklin,  Roger  Sherman,  Robert  R. 
Livingston,  and  Thomas  Jefferson,  was  appointed  to  prepare  a  declaration 
of  independence. 

At  this  time  the  provinces  had  not  confederated ;  some  had  instructed 
their  delegates  to  take  no  part  in  such  declaration,  and  to  precipitate  the 
question  would  cause  such  to  withdraw  from  the  Congress,  while  hasty  action 
might  turn  them  against  the  formation  of  a  union.  Under  these  circum 
stances  prudent  counsels  were  advisable.  Very  many  considerations  were 
to  be  weighed.  It  might  be  that  England  would  cede  Canada  to  France  to 
secure  her  assistance  or  neutrality ;  Spain  had  reason  to  fear  the  growing 
power  of  the  American  colonies,  and  might  enter  into  treaty  with  England 
to  preserve  her  southern  possessions.  The  promulgation  of  a  declaration 
of  independence  might  precipitate  ruin  and  death  upon  every  member  con 
cerned,  and  consign  his  family  to  poverty  and  contumely.  With  all  these 


THE  DECLARATION  OF  INDEPENDENCE.  367 

adverse  influences  to  face,  the  men  who  boldly  determined  on  carrying 
through  their  resolution,  come  what  would,  have  never  received  the  honor 
that  is  justly  their  due. 

The  original  manuscript  of  the  document  prepared  was  wholly  in  the 
handwriting  of  Mr.  Jefferson,  who  had  in  several  places  erased  and  interlined 
with  the  object  of  making  it  plain  and  directly  to  the  point.  Other  correc 
tions  and  changes  were  made  by  Dr.  Franklin  and  Mr.  Adams,  before  the 
declaration  was  adopted.  The  signing  of  the  declaration  of  independence 
was  accomplished  July  4,  1776,  every  member  taking  part  in  the  proceed 
ings  affixing  his  name,  with  one  exception.  The  person  declining  to  sign 
the  document  was  Mr.  Dickinson. 

In  a  letter  to  Samuel  A.  Wells,  bearing  date  May  12,  1819,  Mr.  Jeffer 
son  gives  his  recollections  of  the  incidents  preceding  and  attending  the 
signing  of  the  declaration,  taken  from  notes,  prepared  by  himself  during 
the  discussion,  and  fully  written  out  on  the  conclusion  of  the  convention. 
He  says: 

"  Friday,  June  7th. — The  delegates  from  Virginia  moved,  in  obedience 
to  instructions  from  their  constituents,  that  the  Congress  should  declare 
that  these  united  colonies  are,  and  of  right  ought  to  be,  free  and  indepen 
dent  states;  that  they  are  absolved  from  all  allegiance  to  the  British  crown, 
and  that  all  political  connection  between  them  and  the  state  of  Great  Britain 
is,  and  ought  to  be,  totally  dissolved ;  that  measures  should  be  immediately 
taken  for  procuring  the  assistance  of  foreign  powers,  and  a  confederation  be 
formed  to  bind  the  colonies  more  closely  together.  The  house  being 
obliged  to  attend  at  that  time  to  some  other  business,  the  proposition  was 
referred  to  the  next  day,  when  the  members  were  ordered  to  attend  punc 
tually  at  10  o'clock.  Saturday,  June  8th,  they  proceeded  to  take  it  into 
consideration,  and  referred  it  to  a  committee  of  the  whole,  into  which  they 
immediately  resolved  themselves,  and  passed  that  day  in  debate.  It  appear 
ing  in  the  course  of  these  debates,  that  the  colonies  of  New  York,  New 
Jersey,  Pennsylvania,  Delaware,  Maryland,  and  South  Carolina,  were  not 
yet  matured  for  falling  from  the  parent  stem,  but  that  they  were  fast  advanc 
ing  to  that  state,  it  was  thought  most  prudent  to  wait  awhile  for  them,  and 
to  postpone  the  final  decision  to  July  1st.  But  that  this  might  occasion 
as  little  delay  as  possible,  a  committee  was  appointed  to  prepare  a  declara 
tion  of  independence.  The  committee  were  John  Adams,  Dr.  Franklin, 
Roger  Sherman,  Robert  R.  Livingston,  and  Thomas  Jefferson.  This  was 
reported  to  the  house  on  Friday,  the  28th  of  June,  when  it  was  read  and 
ordered  to  lie  on  the  table.  On  Monday,  the  1st  of  July,  the  house  resolved 
itself  into  a  committee  of  the  whole,  ana  resumed  the  consideration  of  the 
original  motion  made  by  the  delegates  of  Virginia,  which,  being  again 
debated  through  the  day,  was  carried  in  the  affirmative  by  the  votes  of  New 
Hampshire,  Connecticut,  Massachusetts,  Rhode  Island,  New  Jersey,  Mary- 


368  THOMAS   JEFFERSON. 

land,  Virginia,  North  Carolina,  and  Georgia.  South  Carolina  and  Pennsyl 
vania  voted  against  it.  Delaware  had  but  two  members  present,  and  they 
were  divided.  The  delegates  from  New  York  declared  they  were  for  it 
themselves,  and  were  assured  their  constituents  were  for  it ;  but  that  their 
instructions  having  been  drawn  near  a  twelvemonth  before,  when  reconcilia 
tion  was  still  the  general  object,  they  were  enjoined  by  them  to  do  nothing 
which  should  impede  that  object.  They,  therefore,  thought  themselves  not 
justifiable  in  voting  on  either  side,  and  asked  leave  to  withdraw  from  the 
question,  which  was  given  them.  The  committee  rose  and  reported  their 
resolutions  to  the  house.  Mr.  Rutledge,  of  South  Carolina,  then  requested 
the  determination  might  be  put  off  to  the  next  day,  as  he  believed  his  col 
leagues,  though  they  disapproved  of  the  resolution,  would  then  join  in  L 
for  the  sake  of  unanimity.  The  ultimate  question,  whether  the  house 
would  agree  to  the  resolution  of  the  committee,  was  accordingly  postponed 
to  the  next  day,  when  it  was  again  moved,  and  South  Carolina  concurred  in 
voting  for  it.  In  the  meantime  a  third  member  had  come  fresh  from  the 
Delaware  counties,  and  turned  the  vote  of  that  colony  in  favor  of  the  reso 
lution.  Members  of  a  different  sentiment  attending  that  morning  from 
Pennsylvania,  also,  her  vote  was  changed ;  so  that  the  whole  twelve  colo 
nies,  who  were  authorized  to  vote  at  all,  gave  their  votes  for ;  and  within  a 
few  days  the  convention  of  New  York  approved  of  it,  and  this  supplied  the 
void  occasioned  by  the  withdrawing  of  their  delegates  from  the  vote." 

This  vote  was  on  the  original  motion  made  by  the  delegates  from  Vir 
ginia,  on  the  /th  of  June,  that  Congress  should  declare  the  colonies  inde 
pendent,  and  no  longer  under  allegiance  to  Great  Britain. 

' '  Congress  proceeded,  the  same  day,  to  consider  the  declaration  of 
independence,  which  had  been  reported  and  laid  on  the  table  the  Friday 
preceding,  and  on  Monday  referred  to  a  committee  of  the  whole.  The 
pusilanimous  idea,  that  we  had  friends  in  England  worth  keeping  terms 
with,  still  haunted  the  minds  of  many.  For  this  reason,  those  passages 
which  conveyed  censures  on  the  people  of  England  were  struck  out,  lest 
they  should  give  them  offence.  The  debates  having  taken  up  the  greater 
part  of  the  second,  third,  and  fourth  days  of  July,  were,  in  the  evening  of 
the  last,  closed ;  the  declaration  was  reported  by  the  committee,  agreed  to 
by  the  house,  and  signed  by  every  member  present  except  Mr.  Dick 
inson." 

Thus  far  Mr.  Jefferson's  notes  extended.  The  following  was  written 
from  his  memory  of  the  further  events  connected  with  this  memorable 
episode : 

"The  subsequent  signatures  of  members  who  were  not  then  present, 
and  some  of  them  not  yet  in  office,  is  easily  explained,  if  we  observe  who 
they  were,  to  wit:  that  they  were  of  New  York  and  Pennsylvania.  New 
York  did  not  sign  till  the  15th,  because  it  was  not  until  the  pth  (five  days 


1-ltMl   XI)    KANIHH.I'H. 


THE    DECLARATION    OF    INDEPENDENCE.  369 

after  the  general  signatures),  that  their  convention  authorized  them  to  do 
so.  The  convention  of  Philadelphia,  learning  that  it  had  been  signed  by  a 
minority  only  of  their  delegates,  named  a  new  delegation  on  the  2oth,  leav 
ing  out  Mr.  Dickinson,  who  had  refused  to  sign,  Willing  and  Humphreys, 
who  had  withdrawn,  re-appointing  the  three  members  who  had  signed, 
Morris,  who  had  not  been  present,  and  five  new  ones,  to  wit :  Rush,  Cly- 
mer,  Smith,  Taylor,  and  Ross:  and  Morris,  and  the  five  new  members 
were  permitted  to  sign,  because  it  manifested  the  assent  of  their  full  delega 
tion,  and  the  express  will  of  their  convention,  which  might  have  been 
doubted  on  the  former  signature  of  a  minority  only.  Why  the  signature  of 
Thornton,  of  New  Hampshire,  was  permitted  so  late  as  the  4th  of  Novem 
ber,  I  cannot  now  say;  but  undoubtedly  for  some  particular  reason,  which 
we  should  find  to  have  been  good,  had  it  been  expressed.  These  were  the 
only  post-signers,  and  you  see,  sir,  that  there  were  solid  reasons  for  receiv 
ing  those  of  New  York  and  Pennsylvania,  and  that  this  circumstance  in  no 
wise  affects  the  faith  of  this  declaratory  charter  of  our  rights,  and  of  the 
rights  of  man. " 

To  Richard  Henry  Lee,  who,  with  Washington  and  Patrick  Henry, 
represented  the  province  of  Virginia  in  the  first  continental  Congress, 
belonged  the  right  of  preparing  the  draft  of  the  declaration  of  indepen 
dence.  Virginia  instructed  her  delegates  at  the  session  held  in  September, 
J/ZS'  ^0  present  a  resolution  declaring  the  colonies  independent  of  England. 
On  the  /th  of  June,  1776,  Mr.  Lee  moved  "That  these  United  Colonies 
are,  and  of  right  ought  to  be,  free  ami  independent  states  ;  that  they  are 
absolved  from  all  allegiance  to  the  British  crown  ;  and  that  all  political  con 
nection  between  them  and  the  state  of  Great  Britain  is,  and  ought  to  be, 
totally  dissolved."  Before  the  subject  had  been  fully  discussed  and  action 
taken,  Mr.  Lee  was  called  to  his  home  by  the  dangerous  illness  of  some 
members  of  his  family.  When  the  committee  was  appointed  to  frame  a 
declaration  of  independence,  to  Thomas  Jefferson,  as  its  chairman,  was 
accorded  that  honor.  Immediately  after  the  passage  of  that  act,  Jefferson 
sent  a  letter  to  Mr.  Lee,  of  which  the  following  is  an  extract  : 

"  For  news,  I  refer  you  to  your  brother,  who  writes  on  that  head.  I 
inclose  you  a  copy  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  as  agreed  to  by 
the  house,  and  also  as  originally  framed.  You  will  judge  whether  it  is  the 
better  or  worse  for  the  critics." 

On  Friday,  July  I2th,  the  committee  appointed  to  draft  articles  of 
confederation,  reported.  Debate  began  on  the  22d,  and  continued  from 
time  to  time  for  two  years,  final  ratification  by  ten  states  being  made  July 
9,  1778.  New  Jersey  followed  November  26th,  and  Delaware  the  23d  ol 
February,  1779.  Maryland  did  not  accept  the  articles  until  March  I,  1781. 

Mr.  Jefferson  was  returned  as  delegate  to  the  Congress  which  met 
August  1 1,  1781,  and  occupied  his  place  until  September  2d,  following,  when 


37O  THOMAS   JEFFERSON. 

he  resigned  to  accept  a  seat  in  the  Virginia  legislature.  The  new  govern 
ment  had  become  thoroughly  settled,  and  questions  he  deemed  of  paramount 
importance  would  come  before  the  legislature  of  his  native  state.  An  entire 
revision  of  the  laws  framed  under  the  royal  government,  and  which  were  not 
adapted  to  a  republic,  was  demanded.  To  this  subject  he  now  devoted  his 
energies.  The  legislature  met,  and  on  the  7th  of  October  he  was  in  his  seat. 
On  the  nth  he  moved  a  bill  for  the  establishment  of  courts  of  justice,  which 
were  imperatively  needed.  The  motion  was  adopted,  and  Mr.  Jefferson 
drew  up  the  bill  for  their  organization,  which  was  reported  from  the  com 
mittee,  and  passed  in  due  course.  On  the  I2th  he  presented  a  bill  for  the 
abolishment  of  the  system  of  entail,  as  tending  to  the  manifest  injury  of 
younger  children  of  a  few  aristocratic  families.  In  effecting  this,  no  injury, 
no  violence,  and  no  deprivation  of  natural  rights  would  ensue.  The  bill 
was  combated  by  friends  of  the  system  of  aristocracy,  who  did  not  wish 
to  see  it  abolished,  and  when  it  was  found  that  the  feeling  of  the  house 
was  in  favor  of  the  passage  of  such  act,  an  effort  was  made  so  to  change  its 
provisions,  that  instead  of  positive  abolition  the  tenant  in  tail  might  convey 
it  in  fee  simple  if  he  chose  so  to  do.  But  the  bill  for  total  abolition  finally 
passed. 

The  first  importation  of  slaves  into  America,  was  made  by  a  Dutch  ship 
in  1619.  Efforts  were,  at  various  times  thereafter,  made  by  different  per 
sons,  for  the  prohibition  of  the  slave  trade,  but  without  avail,  as  the  crown 
and  ministry  found  in  it  a  profitable  business.  The  war  of  the  Revolution, 
however,  barred  further  importation  for  a  time,  and  in  1778  Mr.  Jefferson 
introduced  a  bill  prohibiting  such  importation  in  the  future,  which  measure 
was  passed. 

The  established  church  was  the  next  system  Mr.  Jefferson  attacked. 
Virginia  had  been  settled  by  loyal  adherents  of  king  and  church,  and  it 
was  but  natural  that  the  religious  forms  of  England  should  prevail.  The 
grant  to  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  expressly  provided  that  the  laws  of  the 
colony  "should  not  be  against  the  true  Christian  faith,  now  professed  in 
the  Church  of  England."  Immediately  the  colony  was  able  to  support 
a  clergy,  the  province  was  divided  into  parishes,  each  with  its  minister 
of  the  Church  of  England.  A  regular  stipend  was  allowed  the  minister, 
to  be  paid  in  the  products  of  the  country,  principally  tobacco.  A  parson 
age  was  also  furnished,  and  all  the  inhabitants  were  taxed  alike  for  support 
of  the  church,  whether  members  of  the  faith  or  not.  Great  intolerance  was 
shown  Quakers,  whose  property  was  taken  from  them  and  they  driven  from 
the  colony  under  pain  of  the  enforcement  of  severe  penalties.  Gradually 
other  sects  gained  a  foothold,  the  Presbyterians  becoming  strong  through 
the  eloquence  and  zeal  of  their  preachers,  while  the  Episcopalians  dwin 
dled  in  number.  The  ministers  of  the  latter,  secure  in  their  place,  devoted 
Sunday  only  to  the  instruction  of  the  people,  spending  the  week  in  their 


SERVICE    IX    STATE    LEGISLATURE.  37! 

schools   and   on  their   farms,   accumulating  such   substance  as  they  could, 
while  the  despised  sectaries  were  garnering  the  members    of   their  flocks. 
In  time  the   Presbyterian   greatly   outnumbered   the   established  church,  but 
the  system  of  taxation  was  continued,   to  their  manifest   injustice  and   the 
emolument  of  the  regular   institution.      The  first  session  of  the  legislature 
in  1776  brought  many  petitions  for   the  abolition  of  this  spiritual  tyranny. 
Mr.   Jefferson   had  been   brought  up  a  Presbyterian,  and  took  an  active  and 
decided  part  in  the  discussion  of  this  subject.      The  petitions  were  referred 
to  a  committee  of  the  whole  on    the  discussion  of  the  state  of  the  country. 
Debate    continued   almost    uninterruptedly  from  the    iith  of  October  until 
December  5th,  when  the  opposition  achieved  a  partial  victory.     They  were 
able  only  "  to  repeal  the  laws  which  rendered  criminal   the  maintenance  of 
any  religious  opinions,  the  forbearance  of  repairing  to  church,  or  the  exer 
cise  of  any  mode  of  worship  ;  and  further  to  exempt  dissenters  from  con 
tributions  to  the  support  of  the  established  church  ;  and   to  suspend,  only 
until  the  next  session,  levies  on  the  members  of  that  church  for  the  salaries 
of  their  own   incumbents."     On  the    iQth   of   November  a    resolution  was 
carried  by  the  house,  a  majority  of  whose  members  were  favorable  to  the 
established  church,  "  that  provision   ought   to   be  made  for   continuing  the 
succession  of  the  clergy  and  superintending  their  conduct." 

The  capital  of  the  provincial  government  of  Virginia  was  originally 
established  at  Jamestown.  It  was  later  removed  to  Williamsburg,  where  it 
remained  until  sometime  in  1779,  wllcn  a  bill  for  its  removal  to  Richmond, 
which  had  been  introduced  by  Mr.  Jefferson  in  1776,  was  passed.  Wil 
liamsburg  is  situated  between  two  rivers,  up  either  of  which  an  enemy 
might  come,  and  by  landing  a  force  above  the  town,  capture  the  archives 
of  government  before  a  possibility  of  this  removal. 

Immediately  on  the   disorganization   of  the  colonial   system,    in   May, 
1776,  the  convention  of  Virginia  at  Williamsburg  entered  upon  the  forma 
tion  of  a  new  government.      Hut  short  time  was    taken   in  perfecting  a  con 
stitution,  which  was  adopted  with  unseemly  haste,  in   June.      Mr.  Jefferson 
was  at  this  time  a  delegate  in  Congress  at  Philadelphia.      lie  had  long  fore 
seen  the  result  of  the  contest  between  the  people  and  the  royal  government, 
and  had  devoted    much   time   to   the   formation  of  a  plan    of  government  to 
take  its  place.     When  this  \vas  completed  he  forwarded  it  to  the  convention 
at   Williamsburg   by  an    express.      Action    had    already  been    taken   on   the 
constitution    first    proposed,   but    the    convention    unanimously  adopted    the 
preamble  prepared  by  Mr.  Jefferson.      It  was  thought  best,  as  the  members 
were  wearied  by  protracted   sessions,  to  adhere  to  the   plan    adopted,  which 
would  answer  for  the  time  being,  although  it  was  acknowledged  on  all  hands 
to  be  imperfect. 

During  the  summer  of  this  year  Mr.  Jefferson   was  called   to   his  home 
by   matters    demanding    his    personal    attention.      In    his    absence    he    was 


372  THOMAS    JEFFERSON. 

appointed  by  Congress,  in  conjunction  with  Dr.  Franklin  and  Mr.  Deane,  a 
commissioner  to  France,  for  the  purpose  of  forming  treaties  of  alliance  and 
commerce.  He  was  at  this  time  suffering  ill  health,  and  that,  together  with 
other  matters,  including  the  embarrassed  condition  of  the  country,  caused 
him  to  decline  the  appointment,  in  a  letter  to  Congress,  dated  October  I  ith. 
Early  in  the  legislative  session  of  1776,  Mr.  Jefferson  presented  a  bill 
for  the  general  revision  of  the  laws,  which  was  passed  October  24th.  On 
the  5th  of  November  a  committee,  consisting  of  Mr.  Jefferson,  Mr.  Pendle- 
ton,  Mr.  Wythe,  George  Mason,  and  Thomas  L.  Lee,  was  appointed  to 
make  such  revision.  On  the  1 3th  of  January  the  committee  met  at  Fred- 
ericksburg,  to  decide  on  a  plan  of  operations,  and  a  division  of  the  work. 
Mr.  Mason  soon  after  resigned,  and  Mr.  Lee  died,  leaving  the  remaining 
three  members  of  the  committee  to  proceed  with  the  work.  To  Mr.  Jeffer 
son  was  assigned  the  common  law  and  statutes  to  the  time  separate  legisla 
tures  were  established.  The  British  statutes  from  that  date  to  the  change 
from  colonial  to  state  government,  and  the  Virginia  laws  were  assigned  to 
Mr.  Pendleton.  In  this  division  of  labor  Mr.  Jefferson  had  charge  of  the 
preparation  of  the  law  of  descents  and  criminal  law.  The  final  judgment 
of  the  committee  was  that  the  law  of  primogeniture  be  abolished,  and  that 
real  estate  be  subject  to  division  among  all  heirs.  On  the  subject  of  the 
criminal  law  all  were  agreed  that  the  death  penalty  should  be  abolished, 
except  for  treason  and  murder ;  for  other  felonies  hard  labor  on  public  works 
was  substituted.  The  committee  entered  with  spirit  into  the  work,  which 
was  not  completed  until  1779,  when  a  meeting  was  had  and  every  section 
read,  sentence  by  sentence, 'amended,  and  revised.  Copies  were  then  made 
and  the  drafts  presented  to  the  general  assembly  June  1 8,  1779.  A  total  of 
one  hundred  and  twenty-six  bills  was  presented.  Certain  of  these  bills 
were  taken  up  from  time  to  time,  but  the  majority  were  not  acted  upon 
until  1785,  after  the  termination  of  the  war.  By  request  of  the  other 
members  of  the  committee,  Mr.  Jefferson  was  given  charge  of  the  acts  of 
assembly  concerning  the  college  of  William  and  Mary,  which  were  included 
in  the  portion  of  the  work  assigned  to  Mr.  Pendleton.  Mr.  Jefferson  had 
given  much  attention  to  the  subject  of  education,  and  his  appointment  to 
this  portion  of  the  work  of  revision,  was  peculiarly  appropriate.  He  pre 
pared  three  bills  for  the  revisal,  proposing  three  distinct  grades  of  education : 
elementary  schools  for  all  children,  rich  and  poor  alike;  colleges,  affording  a 
degree  of  education  adapted  to  the  common  purposes  of  life;  and  a  grade 
for  teaching  the  sciences  generally  in  the  highest  degree.  But  a  portion  of 
this  bill,  that  relating  to  elementary  education,  was  acted  upon,  and  this 
was  so  amended  as  to  leave  each  county  to  determine  for  itself  when 
the  act  should  take  effect.  One  provision  of  the  bill  was,  that  all  should  be 
taxed  alike  to  support  the  public  school  system.  This  would  throw  the 
greater  burden  on  the  rich,  who  cared  nothing  for  these  schools,  they  mak- 


SERVICE    IX    STATE    LEGISLATURE.  373 

ing  other  provision  for  the  education  of  their  children.  As  a  consequence 
the  bill  became  inoperative,  those  who  were  to  decide  when  it  should  go  into 
effect  entirely  ignoring  it. 

The  bill  on  the  subject  of  slavery  was  a  digest  of  existing  laws,  it 
being  thought  best  to  insert  nothing  looking  toward  emancipation,  but 
leave  that  subject  to  be  provided  for  by  amendment  to  the  bill  when  it 
should  be  brought  up  for  adoption.  Mr.  Jefferson  was  an  original  aboli 
tionist,  or  if  not  strictly  an  abolitionist,  an  earnest  believer  in  the  self-evident 
truth  that  all  men  are  born  equal  and  universally  entitled  to  freedom.  In 
discussing  this  bill  he  said  :  -"  Hut  it  was  found  that  the  public  mind  would 
not  yet  bear  the  proposition  [that  is,  a  plan  for  a  future  and  general  emanci 
pation],  nor  will  they  bear  it  at  this  day  [iS2i].  Vet  the  day  is  not  distant 
when  the\'  must  bear  and  adopt  it,  or  worse  will  follow.  Nothing  is  more 
certainly  written  in  the  book  of  fate,  than  that  these  people  are  to  be  free; 
nor  is  it  less  certain  that  the  two  races,  equally  free,  cannot  live  in  the  same 
government.  Nature,  habit,  opinion,  have  drawn  indelible  lines  of  distinc 
tion  between  them.  It  is  still  in  our  power  to  direct  the  process  of  emanci 
pation  and  deportation,  peaceably  and  in  such  slow  degree,  as  that  the  evil 
will  wear  off  insensibly,  and  their  place  be  pari passu,  filled  up  by  free  white 
laborers.  If,  on  the  contrary,  it  is  left  to  force  itself  on,  human  nature 
must  shudder  at  the  prospect  held  up.  \Ve  should  in  vain  look  for  an 
example  in  the  Spanish  deportation  or  delation  of  the  Moors.  This  prece 
dent  would  fall  far  short  of  our  case." 

Touching  laws  regulating  the  officers  of  the  state,  he  says  he  "con 
sidered  four  of  these  bills,  passed  or  reported,  as  forming  a  system  by  which 
ever\r  fibre  would  be  eradicted  of  ancient  or  future  aristocracy;  and  a 
foundation  laid  for  a  government  purely  republican.  The  repeal  of  the  laws 
of  entail  would  prevent  the  accumulation  and  perpetuation  of  wealth,  in 
select  families,  and  preserve  the  soil  of  the  country  from  being  daily  more 
and  more  absorbed  in  mortmain.  The  abolition  of  primogeniture,  and 
equal  partition  of  inheritance,  removed  the  feudal  and  unnatural  distinction, 
which  made  one  member  of  ever}-  family  rich,  and  all  the  rest  poor,  substi 
tuting  equal  partition,  the  best  of  all  agrarian  laws.  The  restoration  of  the 
rights  of  conscience  relieved  the  people  from  the  taxation  for  the  support  of 
a  religion  not  theirs;  for  the  establishment  was  truly  of  the  religion  of  the 
rich,  the  dissenting  sects  being  entire!}'  composed  of  the  less  wealthy  people; 
and  these,  by  the  bill  for  a  general  education,  would  be  qualified  to  under 
stand  their  rights,  to  maintain  them,  and  to  exercise  with  intelligence  their 
parts  in  self  government ;  and  all  this  would  be  effected,  without  the  viola 
tion  of  a  single  natural  right  of  an}'  one  individual  citizen.  To  these,  too, 
might  be  added,  as  a  further  security,  the  introduction  of  a  trial  by  jury, 
into  the  chancery  courts,  which  have  already  ingulfed,  and  continue  to 
ingulf,  so  great  a  proportion  of  the  jurisdiction  over  our  property." 


374  THOMAS    JEFFERSON. 

The  surrender  of  the  army  under  General  Burgoyne,  at  Saratoga,  Octo 
ber  17,  1777,  resulted  in  the  capture  of  a  large  number  of  prisoners  of  war, 
many  of  them  being  the  Hessian  troops  under  General  de  Riedesel.     A  por 
tion  of  these  were  removed  to  Albemarle  county,  in  1779,  and  were  detained 
near  the  residence  of  Mr.  Jefferson,  who  won  the  hearty  good  will  of  both 
officers  and  men,  by  the  many  acts  of  kindness  shown  them.      The  officers 
were  frequently  guests  at  his  table,  and  on  their  release  testified  their  appre 
ciation  of  his  kindness. 


ELECTED    GOVERNOR. 


CHAPTER    III. 

ELECTED  GOVERNOR-AGAIN  IN  CONGRESS-ACCEPTS  A  FOREIGN  MISSION. 

ON  the  1st  of  June,  17/9,  the  term  of  Patrick  Henry,  the  first  gover 
nor  of  Virginia  after  the  formation  of  the  confederation,  expired. 
Mr.  Jefferson  was  elected  to  succeed  him  in  that  office,  and  resigned  his  seat 
in  the  legislature,  where  he  had  done  invaluable  work  for  the  state  in  fram 
ing  the  most  beneficial  changes  in  her  code  of  laws.  He  was  also  about 
this  time  elected  one  of  the  visitors  to  the  college  of  William  and  Mary, 
and  during  his  residence  in  Williamsburg  that  year,  was  instrumental  in 
effecting  a  change  in  the  organization  of  the  institution,  abolishing  the 
grammar  school,  and  doing  away  with  two  professorships,  those  of  divinity 
and  oriental  languages,  and  substituting  in  their  stead  the  chairs  of  law  and 
police,  anatomy,  medicine,  and  chemistry,  and  modern  languages.  Addi 
tions  were  made  to  the  duties  of  the  professor  of  moral  philosophy,  requir 
ing  him  to  teach  the  law  of  nature  and  nations,  and  the  fine  arts  ;  to  the 
duties  of  the  professor  of  mathematics  and  natural  philosophy,  was  added 
instruction  in  natural  history. 

At  this  time  the  duties  of  the  executive  were  arduous  and  difficult. 
The  British  government  had  inflicted  great  barbarities  on  prisoners  who 
were  so  unfortunate  as  to  fall  into  its  hands.  A  system  of  retaliation  was 
inaugurated  by  Mr.  Jefferson,  which,  for  the  tirrte.  had  the  effect  of  increas 
ing  the  rigorous  treatment,  particular!}'  against  the  troops  of  Virginia. 
Persistence  in  this  course  taught  the  British  government  a  lesson  in  humanity 
that  they  had  failed  to  appreciate  and  had  the  effect  to  ameliorate  the  con 
dition  of  the  American  prisoners  in  their  hands.  The}'  were  thereafter  con 
strained  to  follow  more  closely  the  laws  of  civilized  warfare. 

In  the  spring  of  1780  Virginia  became  the  scene  of  actual  hostilities. 
Heretofore  she  had  escaped  much  of  the  terror  and  devastation  of  war. 
The  bold  Tarleton  invaded  the  southern  part  of  the  state,  committing  many 
atrocities,  burning  and  pillaging  the  country,  and  forcing  the  inhabitants  to 


37$  THOMAS   JEFFERSON, 

flee  to  the  mountains  for  refuge.  Following  him  came  the  main  army  under 
Lord  Cornwallis.  The  state  was  in  poor  condition  for  defense,  but  troops 
were  raised,  munitions  of  war  provided,  lines  of  communication  established, 
and  every  possible  effort  made  to  drive  him  back.  Mr,  Jefferson  had  no 
military  training,  but  as  governor  of  the  state  the  legislature  conferred  on 
him  extraordinary  powers  commensurate  with  the  occasion.  Troops  were 
speedily  sent  to  resist  Cornwallis.  At  the  same  time  a  new  danger  menaced 
the  commonwealth.  The  traitor  Arnold,  knowing  the  defenseless  condition 
of  the  sea  coast  and  borders  of  Virginia,  planned  an  invasion  from  that  direc 
tion.  He  set  sail  from  New  York  with  sixteen  hundred  men  and  several 
armed  vessels,  ascended  the  James  river  and  debarked  fifteen  miles  below 
Richmond.  The  state  militia  had  already  been  called  out  and  placed  under 
command  of  General  Nelson,  at  Williamsburgh.  The  capital  was  entirely 
defenseless.  All  available  troops  and  arms  had  been  sent  to  resist  Cornwallis. 
About  two  hundred  men  were  collected,  armed  with  such  weapons  as  could 
be  hastily  gathered,  and  placed  under  command  of  Baron  Steuben,  who  was 
instructed  to  delay  the  enemy  until  the  public  records  be  removed  to  a 
place  of  safety.  Mr.  Jefferson  superintended  this  work  until  the  enemy 
had  nearly  surrounded  the  place  and  had  actually  entered  the  lower  part 
of  town.  The  governor  believed  that  Arnold  might  be  captured  by  the 
exercise  of  strategy  and  skill,  and  found  men  of  nerve  and  daring  to  make 
the  attempt,  but  he  was  careful  to  avoid  exposing  his  person  and  all  efforts 
to  effect  his  capture  by  this  plan  failed.  A  bolder  move  was  then  decided 
upon.  Mr.  Jefferson  communicated  with  General  Washington  and  the 
French  fleet,  and  received  from  both  the  promise  of  active  co-operation. 
It  was  believed  that  vessels  from  the  fleet  could  blockade  the  mouth  of  the 
river  and  cut  off  his  escape  by  sea,  at  the  same  time  that  a  large  body  of 
troops  prevented  his  retreat  across  the  country.  On  the  8th  of  March  Mr. 
Jefferson  wrote  to  Washington  regarding  this  plan  :  "  \Ve  have  made  on  our 
part  every  preparation  which  we  were  able  to  make.  The  militia  proposed 
to  operate  will  be  upwards  of  four  thousand  from  this  state,  and  one  thou 
sand  or  twelve  hundred  from  Carolina,  said  to  be  under  General  Gregory, 
The  enemy  are  at  this  time,  in  a  great  measure  blockaded  by  land,  there 
being  a  force  on  the  east  side  of  Flizabeth  river.  They  suffer  for  pro 
visions,  as  they  are  afraid  to  venture  far,  lest  the  French  squadron  should 
be  in  the  neighborhood  and  come  upon  them.  Were  it  possible  to  block  up 
the  river  a  little  time  would  suffice  to  reduce  them  by  want  and  desertions ; 
and  would  be  more  sure  in  its  event  than  any  attempt  by  storm."  These 
plans  were  defeated,  however,  by  the  inopportune  arrival  at  the  Chesapeake 
of  a  British  force  equal  to  if  not  the  superior  of  the  French  fleet,  by  which 
the  latter  were  driven  back  and  Arnold  made  his  way  in  safety  to  the  sea. 

Disasters,  however,  were  not  yet  at  an   end.      Arnold   had  no  sooner 
escaped  than  Cornwallis  entered  the  state  on   the   south.     The   sole   depen- 


ELECTED    GOVERNOR.  377 

dence  to  repel  him  consisted  of  the  militia,  and  they  were  not  fully 
equipped,  there  being  great  scarcity  of  arms,  ammunition,  and  camp  neces 
saries.  Every  means  at  his  command  was  utilized  by  the  governor.  There 
was,  in  the  state,  a  number  of  regular  officers,  who  had  been  deprived  of 
their  commands  by  the  consolidation  of  Continental  regiments,  caused  by 
lack  of  men.  These  he  called  upon,  at  the  same  time  making  a  draft  of  all 
the  able-bodied  men  available.  With  the  addition  of  some  few  old  soldiers, 
whose  term  of  service  had  expired,  the  militia,  under  experienced  leaders, 
soon  made  a  respectable  appearance.  Most  of  the  drafted  men  were  placed 
in  the  regular  regiments,  and,  with  considerable  numbers  of  the  militia,  were 
sent  to  the  south.  A  considerable  force  of  cavalry  was  mounted  through 
an  expedient  of  Mr.  Jefferson.  He  communicated  with  some  influential 
person,  usually  a  member  of  the  legislature,  in  each  count}',  soliciting  his 
aid  in  purchasing  horses,  using  for  that  purpose  the  paper  money  of  the 
state.  By  this  means  enough  animals  were  secured  to  mount  a  larger  force 
than  was  deemed  necessary  for  the  emergency,  and  the  residue  was  dis 
patched  to  the  aid  of  the  Carolinas.  Virginia  was,  by  this  time,  menaced 
on  every  side,  and  utterly  unable  to  keep  back  the  forces  of  the  enemy. 

On  the  2cl  of  June,  ijSi,  the  term  for  which  Mr.  Jefferson  was  elected 
governor  expired,  and  he  retired  to  his  home  at  Monticello.  Two  days 
after  his  arrival,  the  Hritish  raider,  Tarleton,  suddenly  left  the  main  army 
and  directed  his  course  to  Charlottesvillc  for  the  purpose  of  capturing  the 
legislature,  in  session  at  that  place.  Information  of  his  movements  was 
brought  in  time  .to  allow  the  members  to  escape,  and  at  the  same  time 
a  messenger  was  dispatched  to  Monticello,  but  a  short  distance  away,  to 
inform  Mr.  Jefferson.  His  family  was  breakfasting  with  some  friends,  but 
finished  the  meal  without  undue  haste,  entered  the  carriage,  which  had 
been  ordered,  and  was  conveyed  to  the  house  of  a  friend.  Mr.  Jefferson 
remained  some  time  longer,  to  secure  valuable  papers  from  destruction. 
While  he  was  attending  to  this  matter  a  neighbor  rode  rapidly  up  and 
informed  him  that  a  body  of  horsemen  was  at  that  moment  ascending  the 
hill.  He  soon  mounted  his  horse,  and,  taking  a  course  through  the  woods, 
made  his  way  to  the  place  where  his  family  was,  and  remained  until  danger 
was  past.  Had  not  Tarleton's  men  spent  valuable  time  in  wanton  acts  of 
destruction,  they  must  surely  have  captured  the  entire  state  legislature,  as 
well  as  the  ex-governor.  As  it  was,  their  cupidity  prevented  the  accom 
plishment  of  the  object  sought. 

The  legislature  next  met  at  Staunton,  where  several  new  members  were 
received.  Among  them  was  Mr.  George  Nicholas,  who  had  not  been  pres 
ent  at  Richmond  at  the  time  of  Arnold's  invasion,  and  was  unacquainted 
with  the  measures. taken  by  Governor  Jefferson  to  protect  the  public  prop 
erty.  In  his  view  the  governor  had  been  remiss  in  his  duties;  he  accord 
ingly  called  for  an  investigation  into  his  conduct  on  that  occasion.  To  this 


378  THOMAS   JEFFERSON. 

neither  Mr.  Jefferson  nor  his  friends  interposed  any  objection.  The  subject 
was  postponed  until  the  next  session  of  the  legislature,  before  the  meeting 
of  which  the  member  from  Mr.  Jefferson's  county  resigned,  and  he  was 
unanimously  elected  to  the  vacant  seat.  When  the  subject  of  investigation 
was  brought  up,  however,  Mr.  Nicholas  promptly  arose  in  his  seat,  and 
stated  that  he  had  been  misinformed  in  regard  to  Mr.  Jefferson's  conduct  at 
the  time  referred  to,  and  declined  to  proceed  in  the  case.  Mr.  Jefferson 
then  arose  and  made  a  complete  statement  of  the  subject,  recapitulating  the 
charges,  and  completely  exonerating  himself  from  blame.  On  the  conclu 
sion  of  his  remarks  the  house  unanimously  adopted  the  following  reso 
lution  : 

"Resolved,  That  the  sincere  thanks  of  the  general  assembly  be  given  to 
our  former  governor,  Thomas  Jefferson,  for  his  impartial,  upright,  and 
attentive  administration  whilst  in  office.  The  assembly  wish  in  the  strong 
est  manner  to  declare  the  high  opinion  they  entertain  of  Mr.  Jefferson's 
ability,  rectitude,  and  integrity,  as  chief  magistrate  of  this  commonwealth, 
and  mean  by  thus  publicly  avowing  their  opinion,  to  obviate  and  remove  all 
unmerited  censure." 

On  the  last  day  of  September,  1776,  Mr.  Jefferson  was  appointed,  in 
conjunction  with  Dr.  Franklin,  an  ambassador  to  France,  to  negotiate  treat 
ies  of  alliance  and  commerce  with  that  government.  Silas  Deane  was  at 
that  time  agent  of  the  colonies  for  the  purchase  of  military  stores,  and  was 
added  to  the  commission.  At  the  time  the  family  of  Mr.  Jefferson  was  so 
situated  that  he  could  not  well  leave  it,  his  wife  being  an  invalid,  with 
two  small  children  to  care  for.  He  also  felt  that  his  services  were  needed 
in  forming  the  new  government  and  getting  it  settled  into  satisfactory  work 
ing  order.  He  therefore  declined  the  mission,  and  Mr.  Lee  was  appointed 
in  his  stead. 

Again,  on  the  I5th  of  June,  1781,  he  was  appointed,  with  Mr.  Adams, 
Dr.  Franklin,  Mr.  Jay,  and  Mr.  Laurens,  minister  plenipotentiary  for  nego 
tiating  peace  through  the  mediation  of  the  Empress  of  Russia.  The  same 
reasons  as  before,  prevented  his  becoming  a  member  of  this  commission, 
which  finally  accomplished  nothing.  In  the  fall  of  1782  the  appointment 
was  renewed,  Congress  having  assurances  that  peace  could  be  obtained. 
Mrs.  Jefferson  had  died  during  the  summer,  and  his  home  being  thus  dis 
rupted,  he  accepted  the  appointment,  and  on  the  ipth  of  December  left 
Monticello  for  Philadelphia,  to  make  preparations  for  the  journey.  The 
French  minister  offered  him  the  frigate  Romulus,  which  was  at  that  time 
lying  in  the  river  below  Baltimore,  locked  in  by  ice.  He  therefore 
remained  in  Philadelphia  a  month,  awaiting  her  release,  in  the  meantime 
consulting  state  papers.  He  then  departed  for  Baltimore,  where  another 
month  was  passed  awaiting  the  breaking  up  of  the  river  At  this  time 
news  was  received  that  a  provisional  treaty  of  peace  had  been  signed, 


AGAIN    IN    CONGRESS.  379 

which  would  become  operative  upon  the  conclusion  of  a  treaty  between 
France  and  England.  Considering  that  his  services  would  not  be  required 
on  this  mission  he  returned  to  Philadelphia,  and  Congress  excusing  him 
from  the  office  of  commissioner,  he  departed  for  Monticello,  where  he 
arrived  May  I5th. 

On  the  6th  of  June,  1/83,  he  was  elected  by  the  legislature  delegate  to 
the  Congress,  which  met  in  November  at  Trenton.  In  that  body  he  took 
his  seat  on  the  4th,  and  Congress  immediately  adjourned  to  meet  at  Annap 
olis  the  26th.  The  number  of  delegates  had  now  become  very  small,  many 
being  so  remiss  in  their  duties  that  it  was  frequently  impossible  to  secure  a 
quorum,  and  it  was  not  until  the  I3th  of  December  that  the  business  of 
legislation  began. 

The  definitive  treaty  of  peace  with  Great  Britain  was  signed  at  Paris,  in 
September,  1/83,  and  forwarded  to  Congress  for  ratification.  But  seven 
states  were  represented  at  the  time  of  its  receipt,  and  the  vote  of  nine  being 
required  for  ratification,  nothing  could  be  done  until  the  dilatory  members 
assembled.  December  23d  an  urgent  request  was  sent  to  the  governors  of 
all  the  states,  making  known  the  terms  of  the  treaty,  and  requesting  the 
immediate  attendance  of  members.  On  the  26th  of  the  same  month  Mr. 
Jefferson  moved  that  the  agent  of  marine,  Robert  Morn's,  be  instructed  t~> 
have  three  vessels  in  readiness  to  convey  copies  of  the  ratification  with  all 
speed  to  the  French  court,  as  soon  as  the  treaty  should  be  affirmed.  Some 
members  were  of  opinion  that  seven  states  could  ratify  the  treat}',  and 
the  motion  was  postponed.  Immediate  discussion  of  the  proposition  was 
entered  upon,  and  was  continued  for  many  days.  A  vessel  was  to  sail  from 
Annapolis,  on  the  5th  of  January,  and  the  Congress  passed  a  resolution 
instructing  its  presiding  officer  to  write  to  the  ministers  that  but  seven  states 
were  yet  assembled,  and  these  unanimously  ratified  the  treat}-.  On  the 
I4th  of  January  the  delegates  from  Connecticut  and  South  Carolina  pre 
sented  themselves,  the  treat}*  was  signed  without  dissent,  and  three  copies 
were  made,  one  to  be  conveyed  by  Colonel  Ilarmer,  one  by  Colonel  Franks, 
and  the  third  to  be  forwarded  by  Mr.  Morris,  on  the  first  opportunity 
presented. 

In  January,  1/84,  Congress  had  turned  its  attention  to  the  devising 
a  system  of  finance,  and  had  directed  the  financier,  Robert  Morris,  to  pre 
pare  a  table  containing  the  ratio  of  value  of  foreign  coin.  His  secretary, 
Gouverneur  Morris,  prepared  the  requisite  statement,  at  the  same  time  sub 
mitting  a  plan  for  adoption  of  a  monetary  unit  for  a  universal  system  to  be 
accepted  by  all  the  states.  His  plan  was  to  adopt  a  decimal  system,  founded 
on  a  unit,  representing  a  penny,  which  would  be  a  common  measure  for 
every  state,  without  leaving  a  fraction.  This  common  unit  he  found  to  be 
I-i44Oth  of  a  dollar,  or  i-i6ooth  of  the  crown  sterling.  This  would  make 
the  dollar  consist  of  1440  units,  and  the  crown  1600;  each  unit  containing  a 


380  THOMAS   JEFFERSON. 

quarter  grain  of  silver.  The  proposal  of  the  financier  was  submitted  to 
Congress,  and,  after  lying  over  until  the  following  year,  was  referred  to  a 
committee,  of  which  Mr.  Jefferson  was  a  member.  He  made  some  notes 
on  the  subject,  and  submitted  them  to  Mr.  Morris,  who  replied,  agreeing  to 
enlarge  the  unit  so  that  a  dollar  should  be  14  4O-iooth,  and  the  crown  16 
units.  Mr.  Jefferson  then  caused  his  note  to  be  printed,  together  with  Mr. 
Morris'  reply,  and  circulated  among  the  members  of  Congress.  The  com 
mittee  agreed  to  report  Mr.  Jefferson's  principle,  which  had  for  its  basis  the 
Spanish  dollar,  its  multiples,  and  sub-divisions.  His  proposition  was  to 
strike  four  coins,  one  of  gold,  two  of  silver,  and  one  of  copper:  the  ten 
dollar  piece,  of  gold,  the  dollar  and  dime  of  silver,  and  the  penny  of  cop 
per.  Congress  adopted  this  system  the  ensuing  year,  and  it  has  well  stood 
the  test  of  time,  being  that  now  in  use  ;  the  most  comprehensive  and  best 
system  of  coin  in  the  world. 

Congress  next  proceeded  to  discuss  the  subject  of  foreign  relations. 
Treaties  of  commerce  had  already  been  made  with  France,  the  Netherlands, 
and  Sweden,  and  it  was  important  that  others  be  concluded  with  England, 
Hamburg,  Saxony,  Prussia,  Denmark,  Russia,  Austria,  Rome,  Venice, 
Naples,  Tuscany,  Sardinia,  Genoa,  Spain,  Portugal,  the  Porte,  Algiers, 
Tripoli,  Tunis,  and  Morocco.  Dr.  Franklin  and  Mr.  Adams  were  ministers 
plenipotentiary  respectively  at  Paris  and  the  Hague,  with  extraordinary  gen 
eral  powers  for  entering  into  treaties  of  amity  and  commerce.  It  was  deter 
mined  to  add  another  member,  and  on  May  /th  Mr.  Jefferson  was  chosen 
by  Congress  to  this  office.  Making  hasty  preparations,  four  days  later  he  left 
Annapolis  for  Philadelphia,  where  was  at  that  time  his  eldest  daughter,  and 
proceeded  to  Boston  to  secure  passage.  On  the  5th  of  July  they  sailed,  in 
the  Ceres,  a  merchant  ship  belonging  to  Nathaniel  Tracy,  who  was  himself  a 
passenger,  and  arrived  in  Cowes  on  the  26th.  The  illness  of  his  daughter 
detained  Mr.  Jefferson  a  few  days  at  that  port,  and  the  3Oth  he  left  for 
Havre,  where  he  arrived  the  following  day.  On  the  3d  of  August  he 
reached  Paris,  and  immediately  called  upon  Dr.  Franklin.  A  message  was 
at  once  sent  to  Mr.  Adams,  requesting  him  to  join  them  at  Paris.  On  his 
arrival  a  general  form  was  devised,  to  be  presented  to  such  nations  as  were 
desirous  of  treaty  relations  with  the  new  government.  Negotiations  were 
soon  entered  into  with  Prussia,  Denmark,  and  Tuscany.  Other  powers 
were  indifferent  to  making  treaties,  and  it  was  not  deemed  expedient  to 
press  the  matter.  The  negotiations  were  protracted,  foreign  countries  know 
ing  little  of  the  products  or  resources  of  America,  her  commerce  having 
been  heretofore  monopolized  by  Fngland. 

Mr.  Adams  was  assigned  as  minister  to  England  in  June,  1785,  and  in 
July  Dr.  Franklin  returned  to  America,  Mr.  Jefferson  being  appointed  his 
successor.  In  February,  1786,  Mr.  Adams  sent  an  urgent  request  to  Mr. 
Jefferson,  the  bearer  being  Colonel  Smith,  his  secretary,  that  he  come 


ACCEPTS    A    FOREIGN    MISSION.  38! 

immediately  to  London,  as  it  was  his  opinion  that  a  more  advantageous 
treaty  might  be  negotiated.  On  the  ist  of  March  Mr.  Jefferson  left  Paris, 
and  soon  after  his  arrival  in  London  was  presented  to  the  king  and  queen. 
His  reception  was  not  by  any  means  cordial,  and  left  an  unpleasant  impres 
sion  on  his  mind  that  no  favors  were  to  be  expected  from  that  quarter. 
After  some  seven  weeks  Mr.  Jefferson  returned  to  Paris,  where  he  arrived 
April  3Oth.  While  in  London  negotiations  for  a  treaty  of  commerce  were 
entered  into  with  the  ambassador  of  Portugal,  but  the  demands  of  hi^ 
government  proving  unreasonable  the  matter  was  for  the  time  abandoned. 

Pirates  from  the  Barbary  coast  having  captured  and  despoiled  t\vc 
American  merchantmen,  Mr.  Jefferson  proposed  a  joint  attack  against  then/ 
by  all  naval  powers,  and  to  that  end  suggested  a  convention,  the  object  oV 
which  should  be  "to  compel  the  piratical  states  to  perpetual  peace,  without 
price,  and  to  guarantee  that  peace  to  each  other. "  Certain  of  the  powers 
were  favorable  to  such  mode  of  procedure,  but  others  were  not  prepared  to 
act,  and  the  proposal  fell  through. 

The  remissness  of  members  of  Congress  in  attending  to  their  duties,  was 
a  subject  of  uneasiness.  The  sessions  had  become  almost  permanent  in  form, 
so  much  so  that  legislatures  had  in  some  cases  remonstrated,  and  recom 
mended  intermissions.  The  entire  government  of  a  vigorous  and  growing 
nation  was  vested  in  them,  and  during  their  vacations  there  was  no  head  to 
the  general  government  to  take  action  in  an  emergency,  to  superintend  the 
executive  department,  and  communicate  witli  ministers  and  foreign  powers. 
As  a  temporal'}'  expedient  in  April,  17^5,  Mr.  Jefferson  proposed  that  Con- 
gress  be  divided  into  two  departments,  one  legislative,  the  other  executive, 
and  that  a  committee  consisting  of  one  member  from  each  state  should  con 
stitute  the  executive;  this  committee  should  remain  in  session  during  the 
intermission  of  Congress,  "receive  and  communicate  with  foreign  minister* 
and  nations,  and  assemble  Congress  on  sudden  and  extraordinary  emergen 
cies."  This  plan  was  agreed  to,  and  a  committee  appointed,  which, 
however,  was  soon  split  by  dissensions,  the  members  abandoned  their 
posts,  and  the  government  was  left  with  no  executive  head  until  the 
re-assembling  of  Congress.  Things  remained  in  this  chaotic  condition,  each 
state  legislature  a  law  unto  itself,  and  internal  dissensions  sprang  up  regard 
ing  duties  on  articles  produced  in  one  state  and  shipped  to  another,  causing 
great  uneasiness  and  bickering.  The  good  sense  of  the  people  would  not  long 
tolerate  this  condition  of  affairs,  and  a  general  agreement  prevailed  between 
the  states  for  a  convention  to  harmonize  differences.  Deputies  were  chosen 
by  the  various  legislatures  to  meet  and  agree  on  such  a  constitution  as 
"would  insure  peace,  justice,  liberty,  the  common  defense  and  general  wel 
fare."  This  convention  met  at  Philadelphia,  May  25,  1787,  and  sat  with 
closed  doors  until  September  i/th,  its  proceedings  being  held  inviolate  by 
the  delegates  until  their  labors  were  ended,  when  the  results  were  published. 


382  THOMAS   JEFFERSON. 

Six  of  the  articles  proposed  were  accepted  without  change,  and  in  seven, 
amendments  were  proposed,  after  which  all  were  adopted.  Mr.  Jefferson 
early  received  a  copy  of  the  draft,  and  though  in  several  of  the  articles  he 
found  matters  of  grave  concern,  yet  as  a  whole  he  considered  the  work  of 
the  convention  satisfactory.  Those  articles  to  which  he  particularly  objected 
were  :  that  the  absolute  freedom  of  the  press,  freedom  in  religion,  and  free 
dom  of  the  person  were  not  guaranteed  under  the  protection  of  the  habeas 
corpus ;  and  trial  by  jury  in  both  civil  and  criminal  cases  ;  the  re-eligibility  of 
the  President  to  office  he  quite  disapproved.  It  were  better,  perhaps,  to  give 
his  views  of  these  questions  in  his  own  words.  Some  years  later  he  says : 
"  My  first  idea  was,  that  the  nine  states  first  acting,  should  accept  it 
unconditionally,  and  thus  secure  what  in  it  was  good,  and  that  the  four  last 
should  accept  it  on  the  previous  condition,  that  certain  amendments  should 
be  agreed  to  ;  but  a  better  course  was  devised,  of  accepting  the  whole,  and 
trusting  that  the  good  sense  and  honest  intentions  of  our  citizens,  would  make 
the  alterations  which  should  be  deemed  necessary.  Accordingly,  all  were 
accepted,  six  without  objection,  and  seven  with  recommendations  of  speci 
fied  amendments.  Those  respecting  the  press,  religion,  and  juries,  with 
several  others,  of  great  value,  were  accordingly  made ;  but  the  habeas  corpus 
was  left  to  the  discretion  of  Congress,  and  the  amendment  against  the 
re-eligibility  of  the  President  was  not  proposed.  My  fears  of  that  feature 
wrere  founded  on  the  importance  of  the  office,  on  the  fierce  contentions  it 
might  excite  among  ourselves,  if  continuable  for  life,  and  the  dangers  of 
interference,  either  with  money  or  arms,  by  foreign  nations,  to  whom  the 
choice  of  an  American  President  might  become  interesting.  Examples  of 
this  abounded  in  history;  in  the  case  of  the  Roman  emperors,  for  instance; 
of  the  Popes,  while  of  any  significance ;  of  the  German  emperors ;  the 
kings  of  Poland,  and  the  deys  of  Barbary.  I  had  observed,  too,  in  the 
feudal  history,  and  in  the  recent  instance,  particularly,  of  the  stadtholder  of 
Holland,  how  easily  offices,  or  tenures  for  life,  slide  into  inheritances.  My 
wish,  therefore,  was,  that  the  President  should  be  elected  for  seven  years, 
and  be  ineligible  afterwards.  This  term  I  thought  sufficient  to  enable  him, 
with  the  concurrence  of  the  legislature,  to  carry  through  and  establish  any 
system  of  improvement  he  should  propose  for  the  general  good.  But  the 
practice  adopted,  I  think,  is  better,  allowing  his  continuance  for  eight  years, 
with  a  liability  to  be  dropped  at  half  way  of  the  term,  making  that  a  period 
of  probation.  That  his  continuance  should  be  restrained  to  seven  years, 
was  the  opinion  of  the  convention  at  an  earlier  stage  of  its  session,  when  it 
voted  that  term,  by  a  majority  of  eight  against  two,  and  by  a  simple 
majority  that  he  should  be  ineligible  a  second  term.  This  opinion  was  con 
firmed  by  the  house  so  late  as  July  26th,  referred  to  the  committee  of 
detail,  reported  favorably  by  them,  and  changed  to  the  present  form  by 
final  vote,  on  the  last  day  but  one  only  of  their  session.  Of  this  change, 


ACCEPTS    A    FOREIGN    MISSION.  383 

three  states  expressed  their  disapprobation ;  New  York,  by  recommending 
an  amendment,  that  the  President  should  not  be  eligible  a  third  time,  and 
Virginia  and  North  Carolina  that  he  should  not  be  capable  of  serving  more 
than  eight  in  any  term  of  sixteen  years ;  and  though  this  amendment  has 
not  been  made  in  form,  yet  practice  seems  to  have  established  it.  The 
example  of  four  Presidents  voluntarily  retiring  at  the  end  of  their  eighth 
year,  and  the  progress  of  public  opinion,  that  the  principle  is  salutary,  have 
^iven  it  in  practice  the  force  of  precedent  and  usage  ;  inasmuch  that,  should 
a  President  consent  to  be  a  candidate  for  a  third  election,  I  trust  he  would 
be  rejected,  on  this  demonstration  of  ambitious  views." 

Another  article  in  the  Constitution,  that  relating  to  the  judiciary,  seems 
at  the  time  to  have  been  overlooked,  although  at  a  later  day  Mr.  Jefferson 
jaw  in  it  a  grave  defect.  It  provided  that  no  judge  should  be  removed  from 
office  for  any  cause,  except  by  a  two-thirds  vote  in  the  House,  which  unless 
hi  very  extraordinary  occasions,  could  not  be  obtained.  He  believed  that 
judges  whose  erroneous  biases  menace  dissolution,  should  be  withdrawn 
jrom  the  bench,  the  first  and  supreme  duty  being  to  preserve  the  republic. 

While  on  the  continent  Mr.  Jefferson,  by  an  accident,  sustained  a  dis 
location  of  the  right  wrist,  which  being  improperly  set,  caused  him  much 
trouble,  and  in  a  measure  impaired  his  health.  He  was  recommended  to 
try  the  effect  of  the  mineral  waters  of  Aix,  in  Provence.  This  gave  him 
an  opportunity  to  view  another  section  of  France.  He  left  Paris  February 
JS,  1786,  and  after  a  trial  of  the  waters  experienced  no  benefit.  On  his 
return  he  visited  the  rice  plantations  of  Piedmont,  to  determine  if  anything 
could  be  done  in  the  way  of  improvement  in  the  rice  culture  of  Carolina, 
arriving  at  Paris  June  loth.  In  the  latter  part  of  July  his  second  daughter, 
Maria,  arrived  in  Paris,  having  come  by  way  of  London.  The  youngest 
daughter  had  died  a  short  time  previously,  in  Virginia.  He  had  before  this 
established  a  household  in  Paris,  where  he  was  associated  with  the  great 
thinkers  of"  the  day,  and  breathed  an  element  suited  to  his  tastes  and  dis 
position.  His  early  association  with  his  college  tutor,  Dr.  Small,  had 
inspired  in  him  a  desire  to  pursue  the  study  of  science  and  philosophy.  In 
Paris  he  was  surrounded  by  men  of  letters,  and  immediately  took  a  fore 
most  place  in  the  scientific  discussions  of  the  day.  He  had  been  able  in  the 
intervals  of  public  service,  to  pursue,  to  a  limited  degree,  such  subjects  as 
particularly  interested  him.  His  early  knowledge  of  the  French  language 
had  led  him  to  procure  such  treatises  on  mathematics  and  kindred  sciences  as 
were  published  in  France,  and  he  had  acquired  a  valuable  library,  to  which 
he  made  constant  additions. 

Before  leaving  America,  in  1781,  M.  de  Marbois,  a  learned  gentleman 
connected  with  the  French  legation,  had  requested  Mr.  Jefferson  to  furnish 
such  information  regarding  the  different  states  of  the  Union  as  might  be  in 
his  possession.  As  he  had  always  taken  a  deep  interest  in  matters  per- 


384  THOMAS    JEFFERSON. 

taining  to  the  growth  and  prosperity  of  the  nation,  and  had  committed  his 
observations  to  writing,  probably  no  one  person  in  America  was  better 
qualified  to  make  a  candid  and  intelligent  estimate  of  the  resources  and 
possibilities  of  America  than  he.  His  notes  were  on  loose  slips,  not 
at  all  arranged ;  he  had  prepared  them  at  some  length  for  the  accom 
modation  of  the  gentleman  requesting  the  information,  and  proposed  to 
publish  a  few  copies  for  presentation  to  friends  who  were  interested  in 
the  subject,  but  the  terms  of  publication  were  so  exorbitant  he  was 
deterred  from  so  doing.  After  he  had  become  settled  in  Paris  he  ascer 
tained  that  the  work  could  be  done  there  at  about  one-fourth  the  price 
demanded  in  America.  He  therefore  revised  and  extended  the  original 
matter  and  caused  two  hundred  copies  to  be  printed  under  the  title  of  Notes 
on  Virginia.  These  were  given  to  friends  in  Europe  and  America.  A  book 
dealer  chanced  to  obtain  a  copy,  which  he  caused  to  be  translated  into 
French,  and  submitted  to  Mr.  Jefferson  for  revision.  It  was  filled  with 
glaring  errors,  but  not  having  time  •  to  thoroughly  revise  it,  the  proof  was 
returned  to  the  publisher,  who  issued  the  volume.  A  London  publisher 
secured  a  copy  and  requested  permission  to  print  an  English  edition.  This 
permission  Mr.  Jefferson  readily  granted,  thinking  it  best  to  have  an  accu 
rate  work  published  to  counteract  the  false  impressions  that  might  arise 
from  the  French  work. 

The  articles  of  confederation  wrere  hastily  and  indefinitely  drawn,  and 
when  the  immediate  necessities  of  war  had  passed  away,  and  peace  was 
assured  to  the  country,  each  state  became  more  independent  of  the  others. 
True,  a  semblance  of  general  government  was  kept  up  by  the  election 
of  delegates  to  Congress,  but  the  states  did  not  provide  such  adequate 
means  for  the  sustentation  of  home  and  foreign  relations  as  was  neces 
sary  for  the  establishment  of  treaties  of  commerce  and  the  maintaining 
diplomatic  relations  abroad.  Some  contributed  small  amounts  and  some 
none  at  all.  These  latter  furnished  an  excuse  for  others,  and  finally  the 
wheels  of  government  became  almost  blocked.  This  state  of  things  existed 
until  the  adoption  of  a  constitution  drew  the  states  into  more  intimate 
relations,  which  were  further  strengthened  by  the  election  of  a  Presi 
dent  and  a  Vice  President.  The  election  of  Mr.  Adams,  late  minister  to 
England,  to  the  second  place  in  the  government,  closely  followed  his  return 
to  his  native  ceuntry.  He  had  been  appointed  minister  to  England  while 
associated  with  Dr.  Franklin  and  Mr.  Jefferson,  in  a  commission  for  the 
formation  of  treaties  with  such  foreign  powers  as  were  disposed  to  establish 
commercial  relations  with  the  United  States.  His  place  of  residence  had 
been  at  the  Hague,  and  he  had  not  taken  leave  of  that  government  before 
proceeding  to  London.  During  his  residence  at  the  Hague  he  had  a  gen 
eral  authority  to  procure  loans  of  such  sums  as  were  necessary  to  the  main 
tenance  of  diplomatic  relations,  and  to  meet  the  interest  on  the  public  debt. 


ACCEPTS    A    FOREIGN    MISSION.  385 

A  limited  sum  had  been  deposited  with  Mr.  Grand,  the  banker,  of  Paris, 
for  the  accommodation  of  the  commissioners  there,  but  this  had  been  over 
drawn,  and  the  banker  refused  to  make  further  advances  until  a  deposit  had 
been  made.  A  company  which  had  made  a  small  loan  to  the  United  States 
was  pressing  for  payment  of  its  claim  ;  the  bankers  in  Amsterdam  were 
becoming  anxious  regarding  the  large  sums  they  had  provided,  the  interest 
on  which  would  become  due  in  June;  failure  in  the  payment  of  these 
demands  would  impair  the  credit  of  the  government  and  prevent  the  future 
negotiation  of  bonds.  Application  had  been  made  to  the  financial  agent 
for  remittances  covering  the  sums  demanded,  and  had  produced  a  candid 
statement  that  no  funds  could  be  depended  on  until  the  new  government 
should  become  settled  and  in  full  working  order.  Mr.  Adams,  before  leav 
ing  London,  had  notified  the  bankers  to  present  their  claims  to  Mr.  Jeffer 
son  in  the  future.  The  latter  had  no  authority  to  issue  bonds,  no  familiarity 
with  the  financial  affairs  of  the  United  States  in  Kurope,  and  was  totally 
without  resources  to  provide  for  the  contingency.  In  this  state  of  affairs  it 
was  imperative  that  he  confer  with  Mr.  Adams,  and  this  determined  him  to 
journey  to  the  Hague.  Mr.  Adams  saw  the  necessity  for  immediate  action. 
The  financial  matters  of  the  Republic  were  of  paramount  importance.  Mr. 
Jefferson  prepared  an  estimate  of  the  sum  required.  lie  found  there  was 
necessity  that  provision  be  mack-  for  the  years  1788,  1789,  and  1790,  before 
the  government  would  be  in  condition  to  meet  its  obligations.  There  would 
be  required  for  this  purpose  1 , 544,017-10  florins.  There  was  available  a 
sum  amounting  to  622,687-2-8  florins,  leaving  to  be  supplied  921,949-7-4. 
It  was  proposed  to  issue  bonds  for  i.ooo.ooo  florins,  which  would  realize 
920,000,  after  deducting  the  expense  of  negotiation.  This  would  still  leave 
a  small  deficiency  of  1,949-7-4  florins,  which  could  stand  unpaid  until 
further  provision  was  made.  Bonds  were  accordingly  issued  by  Mr.  Adams, 
in  sums  of  1,000  florins  each,  and  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  bankers,  with 
instructions  not  to  put  them  on  the  market  until  the  loan  had  been  sanc 
tioned  by  Congress.  Mr.  Jefferson  then  returned  to  Paris,  eased  in  mind, 
and  with  the  satisfaction  that  the  credit  of  the  nation  was  safe,  for  the  time, 
at  least,  and  he  relieved  from  the  importunities  of  its  creditors. 

In  1784  Dr.  Franklin  had  agreed  upon  certain  articles  in  a  consular  con 
vention  with  the  French  government,  entirely  at  variance  with  the  spirit  of 
the  laws  of  several  states  of  the  Union,  which  Congress  refused  to  ratify, 
and  returned  to  Mr.  Jefferson  with  Instructions  to  have  them  expunged,  or 
modified  to  conform  to  our  laws.  The  concessions  were  made  after  much 
discussion,  and  the  articles  signed  on  the  1 4th  of  November,  1788. 

The  connection  of  Mr.  Jefferson  with  the  revolt  of  the  colonies  and  the 
securing  of  their  independence  from  the  domination  of  Great  Britain, 
caused  him  to  nvike  careful  study  of  the  events  which  preceded  and  led  to 
the  French  revolution.  From  his  earliest  acquaintance  with  the  Marquis 


386  THOMAS    JEFFERSON. 

de  Lafayette  he  had  recognized  in  him  the  principles  of  republicanism,  and 
his  own  life  in  France  brought  him  in  contact  with  the  leading  spirits  in  the 
intellectual  agitation  which  preceded  and  produced  the  revolution.  While 
in  strong  sympathy  with  the  movement,  Mr.  Jefferson  maintained  in  the 
strictest  sense  the  policy  of  non-intervention,  recognizing  the  fact  that  he 
was  the  accredited  representative  of  a  nation  at  peace  and  holding  friendly 
relations  with  the  court  of  France.  He  was  once  requested  to  attend  and 
assist  in  the  deliberations  of  a  convention  formed  to  frame  a  constitution 
supplementary  to  a  declaration  of  rights,  but  excused  himself  on  the  ground 
that  his  duties  were  limited  to  the  concerns  of  his  own  country.  The  con 
sistency  he  showed  in  maintaining  the  position  he  had  taken,  caused  him  to 
be  trusted  by  both  patriots  and  royalists.  The  minister  of  state  was  his 
friend  and  personally  requested  that  he  assist  at  such  conferences  as  were 
aimed  toward  a  reformation. 

The  excesses  of  the  revolution  did  not  begin  until  several  years  after 
these  events,  and  Mr.  Jefferson  was  not  in  France  at  the  time  of  their  occur 
rence.  For  more  than  a  year  he  had  been  awaiting  an  opportunity  to 
return  home,  with  a  view  to  placing  his  daughters  under  the  care  of  friends, 
and  in  the  midst  of  American  society,  but  the  changes  in  the  govern 
ment  and  the  many  affairs  to  be  carefully  attended  to  before  it  would 
become  settled  on  a  stable  foundation,  had  prevented  Congress  granting  him 
leave  of  absence.  It  was  not  until  near  the  last  of  August  that  matters  had 
been  placed  in  such  shape  that  he  could  leave.  His  arrangements  for  tem 
porary  absence  completed,  on  the  2Qth  of  September,  1789,  he  left  Paris  for 
Havre,  where  he  was  detained  until  the  8th  of  October.  On  the  gth  he 
arrived  at  Cowes,  where  he  had  made  arrangements  to  take  passage  in  the 
ship  Clcrmont.  A  delay  of  some  ten  days  ensued,  caused  by  contrary  winds, 
and  during  this  interval  he  visited  objects  of  interest  on  the  Isle  of  Wight, 
particularly  Carisbrooke  castle,  the  refuge  of  Charles  the  First  in  1648. 
Resuming  the  journey,  he  reached  Norfolk  November  23d.  Traveling 
homeward  from  that  port,  he  passed  several  days  with  friends  in  Eppington, 
and  while  there  received  a  letter  from  General,  then  President,  Washington, 
inviting  him  to  a  seat  in  his  cabinet.  The  letter  of  the  President  was  as 
follows : 

"NEW  YORK,  October  13,  1789. 

"SiR:  In  the  selection  of  characters  to  fill  the  important  offices  of 
government,  in  the  United  States,  I  was  naturally  led  to  contemplate  the 
talents  and  dispositions  which  I  knew  you  to  possess  and  entertain  for  the 
service  of  your  country;  and  without  being  able  to  consult  your  inclination, 
or  to  derive  any  knowledge  of  your  intention  from  your  letters,  either  to 
myself,  or  to  any  other  of  your  friends,  I  was  determined,  as  well  by  motives 
of  private  regard,  as  a  conviction  of  public  propriety,  to  nominate  you  for 
the  department  of  state,  which,  under  its  present  organization,  involves 


ACCEPTS    A    FOREIGN    MISSION.  387 

many  of  the  most  interesting  objects  of  the  executive  authority.  But 
grateful  as  your  acceptance  of  this  commission  would  be  to  me,  I  am,  at  the 
same  time,  desirous  to  accommodate  your  wishes,  and  I  have,  therefore, 
forborne  to  nominate  your  successor  at  the  court  of  Versailles,  until  I  should 
be  informed  of  your  determination. 

"Being  on  the  eve  of  a  journey  through  the  eastern  states,  with  a  view 
to  observe  the  situation  of  the  country,  and  in  a  hope  of  perfectly  re-estab 
lishing  my  health,  which  a  series  of  indispositions  has  much  impaired,  I 
have  deemed  it  proper  to  make  this  communication  of  your  appointment, 
in  order  that  you  might  k»e  no  time,  should  it  be  your  tcis/i  to  visit  Vir 
ginia  during  the  recess  of  Congress,  which  will  probably  be  the  most  con 
venient  season,  both  as  it  ma}'  respect  your  private  concerns  and  the  public 
service. 

"  Unwilling,  as  I  am,  to  interfere  in  the  direction  of  your  choice  of 
assistants,  I  shall  only  take  the  liberty  of  observing  to  you,  that  from  warm 
recommendations  which  I  have  received  in  be-half  of  Roger  Aldin,  Ksq., 
assistant  secretary  of  the  late  Congress,  I  have  placed  all  the  papers  there 
unto  belonging,  under  his  care.  These  papers,  \\hich  more  pmpcrly  apper 
tain  to  the  office  of  foreign  affairs,  are  under  the  superintendence  of  Mr. 
Jay,  who  has  been  so  obliging  as  to  continue  his  good  offices,  and  they  are 
in  the  immediate  charge  of  Mr.  Rem>en. 

"  With  sentiments  of  very  great  esteem  and  regard,  I  have  the  honor 
to  be,  sir, 

Your  most  obedient  servant, 

GKOKGI    WASHINGTON. 

"The  lion.  Thomas  Jefferson." 

November  3Oth  President  \Ya>hington  addressed  another  communica 
tion  to  Mr.  Jefferson,  of  the  same  tenor  as  the  above,  requesting  the  com 
munication  of  his  decision  in  the  matter. 

The  receipt  of  the  letter  from  the  President  requesting  him  to  accept 
an  appointment  to  his  cabinet,  filled  Mr.  Jefferson  with  conflicting  emo 
tions,  lie  had  left  Paris  with  the  intention  of  soon  returning;  he  had 
found  there  men  of  advanced  views  in  scientific  and  political  subjects;  the 
revolution  in  public  sentiment  had  just  begun,  and  lie  confidently  expected 
to  scv  ^ts  close  within  a  year.  Inclination  prompted  his  return  to  France; 
obedience  to  the  wish  of  the  executive  decided  him  to  accept  the 
appointment.  ^ 


3SS  THOMAS  jEFFtic:o\-. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

SERVICE  IN  THE  CABINET  OF  PRESIDENT  WASHINGTON. 

MR.  JEFFERSON  arrived  in  New  York  the  2ist  of  March,  ljyo>  and 
entered  upon  an  epoch  of  his  life  that  continued  for  nineteen  years, 
until  his  retirement  from  public  service  in  1809.  The  duties  of  secretary  of 
state  are  perhaps  the  most  exacting  of  any  in  the  administration  of  the 
government,  and  require  exceptional  abilities  for  their  proper  performance. 
All  questions  of  public  concern  must  be  appreciated  by  him  ;  since  both 
home  and  foreign  affairs  are  under  his  immediate  supervision.  To  this 
office  Mr.  Jefferson  brought  rare  qualifications  of  mind  and  experience. 
The  President  received  his  minister  with  cordiality,  while  all  parties  extended 
the  hand  of  welcome.  He  found  here  a  different  sentiment  from  that  to 
which  he  had  lately  been  accustomed.  The  society  that  was  attracted  to 
the  President's  levees  had  an  aristocratic  tendency.  The  President  was 
himself  descended  from  an  old  and  aristocratic  family,  and  by  education  and 
association  Avas  quite  exclusive.  He  allowed  no  one  to  approach  him  with 
undue  familiarity ;  eve'n  his  most  intimate  friends  scarcely  dared  attempt 
to  penetrate  the  reserve  with  which  he  surrounded  himself.  Alexander 
Hamilton,  his  secretary  of  the  treasury,  though  with  no  inherited  aristocratic 
tendency,  by  virtue  of  the  position  he  occupied  was  a  leader  and  advocate  of 
extreme  court  etiquette,  beside  being  essentially  in  favor  of  a  monarchial 
form  of  government.  His  extreme  views  regarding  the  establishment  of  a 
certain  courtly  form  in  addressing  the  President,  and  in  conducting  the 
•affairs  connected  with  the  government,  met  with  strong  disapproval  from 
Mr.  Jefferson,  whose  early  acquired  republican  principles  had  been 
strengthened  by  association  with  the  young  republicans  of  France.  When 
It  was  proposed  in  the  Senate  to  address  the  President  as  "  His  Highness 
George  Washington,  President  of  the  United  States  and  Protector  of  their 
Liberties,"  although  he  had  no  voice  in  deciding  the  title  to  be  adopted,  he 
unqualifiedly  dissented  from  such  form.  The  wife  of  the  President  was  also 


SERVICE    IN    THE    CABINET    OF    PRESIDENT    WASHINGTON.  389 

of  aristocratic  tendency,  and  took  delight  in  the  little  court  that  surrounded 
her.  It  frequently  happened  that  at  dinner  parties  nearly  all  present  were 
of  the  court  part}',  and  Mr.  Jefferson  the  only  person  present  entertaining 
opposite  views,  unless  it  so  happened  that  a  republican  member  of  the 
Senate  or  House  was  present.  Jefferson's  doctrine  of  simplicity  in  govern 
ment  was  not  the  feeling  of  a  moment,  but  was  adhered  to  throughout  his 
life.  So  strongly  implanted  was  it,  that  when  he  became  President  of  the 
United  States  his  cards  bore  the  simple  inscription,  "Thomas  Jefferson," 

On  his  advent  into  the  cabinet,  Mr.  Jefferson  found  diversity  of  opinion 
among  the  members  of  Congress  respecting  the  funding  schemes  proposed 
by  the  secretary  of  the  treasury.  Previous  to  and  during  the  war  of  tl.e 
revolution  the  several  states  had  pledged  large  sums  of  money,  a  part  uf 
which  had  been  applied  to  home  protection  and  the  remainder  turned  into 
the  general  fund.  The  amount  thus  contributed  varied  in  the  different 
states.  Some  of  these  had  provided  for  the  payment  of  their  individual 
debt,  and  had  it  nearly  cancelled,  while  others  had  done  nothing  toward 
meeting  their  indebtedness.  'I  hose  nearly  tree  from  obligations  objected 
to  being  taxed  to  pay  the  debt  of  their  neighbors.  It  was  a  difficult  question 
to  decide.  The  heavier  burdens  of  the  war  had  been  borne  by  the  eastern 
and  middle  states,  while  those  more  to  the  south  had,  in  great  measure, 
escaped.  He  to  re  this  question  was  settled  came  another  of  some  impor 
tance — the  permanent  establishment  of  the  capital.  Various  places,  from 
the  Delaware  to  the  Potomac,  were  advocated  as  possessing  superior  advan 
tages.  Tile  question  at  is>ue  was  definitely  settled  by  the  states  assuming 
the  public  debt,  now  amounting  to  £54.  I  24,404.56  ;  the  temporary  location 
of  the  capital  for  a  period  <>f  ten  years  at  Philadelphia,  and  its  permanent 
establishment  on  the  Potomac,  at  or  near  Georgetown. 

Congress  adjourned  Augu>t  I  2th,  and,  after  a  week  spent  in  a  pleasure 
jaunt  with  members  of  the  cabinet  and  others,  Mr.  Jefferson  returned  to 
his  home  at  Monticello,  where  he  remained,  quietly  attending  to  business 
that  had  for  some  time  been  neglected,  until  the  opening  of  the  next  ses 
sion,  in  December,  again  called  him  to  Philadelphia.  During  this  year  the 
navigation  of  the  Missis>ippi  river  became  a  subject  of  importance.  There 
was  probability  of  a  rupture  between  Kngland  and  France,  and  such  r.n 
event  might  also  involve  Spain  in  war.  A  tree  outlet  to  the  sea  for  the 
products  of  the  growing  west  was  an  imperative  necessity.  After  some 
delay,  arrangements  were  made  for  the  use  of  the  river  as  far  as  New 
Orleans,  but  it  was  not  until  some  ten  years  later  that  the  government  was 
able  to  acquire  peaceable  possession  of  the  territory  adjacent  to  the  river, 
and  control  of  the  same  to  its  mouth. 

At  this  time  the  United  States  had  no  treat}-  of  commerce  with  Great 
Britain.  The  mother  country  had  heretofore  appeared  indifferent  to  such 
treaty.  There  was  now  an  informal  agent  in  New  York,  who  proposed  an 


390  THOMAS   JEFFERSON. 

exchange  of  ministers.  This  the  United  States  agreed  to,  but  England 
did  not  respond,  leaving  all  her  affairs  to  an  unaccredited  agent.  Mr.  Jef 
ferson  informed  Gouverneur  Morris,  an  informal  agent  of  the  United  States 
in  England,  that  regarding  a  treaty  of  commerce  and  alliance  "we  wish 
to  be  neutral,  and  will  be  so,  if  they  [England]  will  execute  the  treaty 
fairly  and  attempt  no  conquests  adjoining  us."  This  had  reference  to  the 
acquirement  of  a  portion  or  all  the  Spanish  possessions  in  America.  It  was 
his  desire  that  no  change  of  neighbors  be  made,  that  the  United  States 
might  retain  the  balance  of  power  on  this  continent. 

Among  other  duties  this  year,  Mr.  Jefferson  prepared  a  report  on  a 
standard  of  coinage,  and  weights  and  measures.  The  former  was  virtually 
adopted,  and  is  the  system  now  in  use.  The  system  of  weights  and  meas 
ures  had  become  so  familiar,  and  habit  so  confirmed,  that  a  change  was  not 
deemed  advisable. 

The  British  government  would  not  enter  into  commercial  treaty  with 
the  United  States  until  misunderstandings  were  settled  regarding  the  terms 
of  peace.  The  importation  of  all  articles  from  America  that  could  be 
obtained  elsewhere  was  debarred,  except  that  in  time  of  scarcity  of  grain 
it  was  allowed  to  enter  duty  free.  Commerce  with  England  was  limited  to  a 
few  articles  not  readily  procured  elsewhere.  Trade  with  the  West  Indies 
was  included  in  this  category.  Mr.  Jefferson  advocated  retaliatory  meas 
ures,  and  the  granting  of  special  privileges  to  other  countries  friendly  to  us. 
Hamilton  was  opposed  to  such  measures,  and  his  influence  is  believed  to 
have  defeated  their  passage.  In  principle  Jefferson  believed  in  "perfect  and 
universal  free  trade  as  one  of  the  natural  rights  of  man,  and  as  the  only 
sound  policy."  He  modified  this  somewhat  by  saying  instead  :  ''Free  trade 
with  any  nation  that  will  reciprocate." 

The  duties  of  the  first  secretary  of  state  were  multifarious,  including 
many  now  foreign  to  that  office.  Jefferson  was  for  a  time  postmaster- 
general,  and  seriously  contemplated  a  fast  mail  service,  not  connected  with 
steam-power,  iron  rails,  and  portable  palaces  for  its  conveyance,  but  by 
means  of  relays  of  post-horses  traveling  at  the  rate  of  one  Jmndrcd  miles  a 
day.  Under  his  control,  also,  was  the  patent  system.  An  Englishman 
solicited  the  privilege  of  coining  the  currency  of  the  country  ;  this  brought 
the  subject  of  the  establishment  of  a  government  mint  before  Congress,  and 
it,  also,  was  referred  to  him.  He  decided  as  to  the  legality  of  land  grants. 
There  being  no  other  "general  utility"  man  possessed  of  such  broad  and 
comprehensive  scope,  on  him  devolved  the  laying  out  of  the  District  of 
Columbia  and  planning  the  erection  of  public  buildings. 

The  chartering  of  the  United  States  bank  was  an  act  Mr.  Jefferson 
strongly  condemned,  and  which  Mr.  Hamilton  as  cordially  approved. 
Much  discussion  ensued  in  Congress  over  the  measure,  many  deeming  it 
opposed  to  the  spirit  and  intent  of  the  Constitution,  but  the  bill  finally 


SERVICE    IN    THE    CABINET    OF    PRESIDENT    WASHINGTON.  39! 

passed.  The  stock  of  the  bank  was  subscribed  within  a  very  few  days  after 
books  were  opened,  and  could  have  been  increased  to  an  almost  indefinite 
sum.  Everything  began  to  assume  the  form  of  prosperity,  but  a  spirit  of 
stock  gambling  was  developed,  which  was  dangerous  to  the  permanence  of 
institutions.  Government  securities  rose  to  twenty-five  per  cent,  above  par, 
and  the  people  were  read}'  to  take  hold  of  any  enterprise,  however  hazard 
ous,  which  promised  sudden  wealth.  Fortunes  were  made  by  men  who  held 
the  appreciated  securities,  and  vessels  were  tied  up  at  their  wharves,  legiti 
mate  commerce  being  too  slow  a  course  to  follow  in  the  pursuit  of  the 
golden  god.  Members  of  Congress  were  not  above  ambition  in  the  accu 
mulation  of  wealth,  and  previous  to  the  passage  of  the  act  man}*  pur 
chased  the  depreciated  paper  of  government,  and  realized  large  profits 
from  its  sudden  rise.  Mr.  Jefferson's  opposition  to  a  bank  controlled  by 
government,  Hamilton  deemed  opposition  to  himself  and  his  plans.  lie 
said:  "Mr.  Jefferson  not  only  delivered  an  opinion  in  writing  against  its 
constitutionality,  but  he  did  it  in  a  style  and  manner  which  I  felt  as  partak 
ing  of  asperity  and  ill-humor  toward  uu  \ "  Again:  "  In  France,"  continues 
Hamilton,  "he  saw  government  only  on  the  side  of  its  abuses.  lie  drank 
deeply  of  the  French  philosophy,  in  religion,  in  science,  in  politics.  lie 
came  from  France  in  the  moment  of  a  fermentation  which  he  had  a  share  in 
exciting,  and  in  the  passions  and  feelings  of  which  he  shared,  both  from 
temperament  and  situation.  He  came  here,  probably,  with  a  too  partial 
idea  of  his  own  powers,  and  with  the  expectation  of  a  greater  share  in  the 
direction  of  our  councils  than  he  has  in  reality  enjoyed.  I  am  not  sure  that 
he  had  not  marked  out  for  himself  the  department  of  the  finances.  lie 
came  electrified  /»///.v  with  attachment  to  France,  »ind  with  the  project  of 
knitting  together  the  two  countries  in  the  closest  political  bands.  Mr. 
Madison  had  always  entertained  an  exalted  opinion  of  the  talents,  knowledge, 
and  virtues  of  Mr.  Jefferson.  The  sentiment  was  probably  reciprocal.  A 
close  correspondence  subsisted  between  them  (.hiring  the  time  of  Mr.  Jeffer 
son's  absence  from  this  country.  A  close-  intimacy  arose  on  his  return. 

Mr.  Jefferson  was  indiscreetlv  open  in  his  approbation  of  Mr.  Madi 
son's  principles  on  first  coining  to  the  seat  of  government.  I  say  indis 
creetly,  because  a  gentleman  in  one  department  ought  not  to  have  taken 
sides  against  another  in  another  department." 

Hamilton  was  jealous  of  his  rights  as  secretary  of  the  treasury,  and 
was  disposed  to  asperse  the  character  of  others  who  honestly  differed  from 
him.  He  seemed  to  think  plans  for  the  increase  of  the  power  and  emolu 
ments  of  his  department  should  not  be  condemned  by  those  who  saw  things 
in  a  different  light.  He  had  his  way  in  the  funding  measures,  the  United 
States  bank,  and  others,  and  the  opposition  he  had  overcome  increased 
his  egotism.  While  on  all  hands  he  was,  and  is  at  the  present  day,  acknowl 
edged  a  man  of  great  financial  ability,  yet  his  disposition  to  override  and 


392  THOMAS   JEFFERSON. 

disparage  the  work  of  others,  his  peers,  did  much  to  lower  him  in  the  esti 
mation  of  men  whose  good  opinion  was  worth  having. 

When,  in  1790,  the  seat  of  government  was  removed  to  Philadelphia, 
the  translating  clerk  in  the  department  of  state  declined  to  follow.  To 
oblige  his  friends,  James  Madison  and  Henry  Lee,  Mr.  Jefferson  appointed 
to  the  office  Captain  Philip  Frenau,  who  was  somewhat  of  a  poet,  and 
quite  a  man  of  genius.  Frenau  was  at  the  time  general  utility  man  on  the 
New  York  Commercial  Advertiser.  The  salary  of  clerk  in  the  department  of 
state  was  small, — but  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  per  year.  However,  Mr. 
Madison  and  Governor  Henry  Lee,  of  Virginia,  had  in  contemplation  the 
establishment  of  a  paper  to  represent  the  republican  party,  as  Hamil 
ton  had  an  organ,  the  Gazette  of  the  United  States.  Less  than  a  year 
after  Frenau's  appointment,  appeared  the  first  number  of  the  National 
Gazette.  The  course  followed  by  the  National  Gazette  in  combatting  the 
principles  of  federalism,  and  condemning  Mr.  Hamilton's  schemes,  inflamed 
the  ire  of  that  gentleman,  who  became  still  more  embittered  against  Mr. 
Jefferson,  believing  him  the  instigator  and  abettor  of  the  attacks  against  the 
United  States  bank,  and  other  measures.  The  only  connection  Mr.  Jeffer 
son  had  with  the  National  Gazette,  if  connection  it  can  be  called,  was  in 
loaning  its  editor  the  foreign  newspapers  received  by  the  department.  Mr. 
Jefferson  plainly  said:  "I  never  did,  by  myself  or  any  other,  or  indirectly, 
say  a  syllable,  nor  attempt  any  kind  of  influence,  ....  nor  write, 
dictate,  or  procure,  any  one  sentence  to  be  inserted  in  Frenau's,  or  any 
other  gazette,  to  which  my  name  was  not  affixed,  or  that  of  my  office." 
Undoubtedly  Mr.  Jefferson's  sympathies  were  with  the  paper  representing 
his  political  views,  as  were  those  of  Mr.  Hamilton  with  the  paper  repre 
senting  the  federal  party. 

Two  natures  radically  antagonistic  can  hardly  be  reconciled.  This  was 
the  case  with  Jefferson  and  Hamilton.  Their  first  mutual  impressions  were 
those  of  antagonism — the  one  a  republican,  in  sympathy  with  a  republican 
form  of  government,  the  other  a  federalist,  with  strong  predilections  to  a  mon 
archical  government,  surrounded  by  the  restrictions  of  court  etiquette,  and  a 
titled  nobility.  While  each  treated  the  other  with  courtesy  and  respect,  there 
was  nothing  in  common  between  them.  Hamilton  planned  for  a  life  of 
power.  Jefferson  desired  relief  from  the  cares  of  state,  and  opportunity  for 
following  the  pursuits  that  were  best  suited  to  his  nature.  The  differences 
between  these  great  men  were  never  reconciled,  and  never  ended  until  Ham 
ilton  fell,  bathed  in  his  own  blood,  under  the  fatal  bullet  of  Burr.  Jefferson 
dreaded  Hamilton's  ambition  and  designs.  His  extravagant  praise  of  Julius 
Caesar,  whom  he  pronounced  the  greatest  man  that  ever  lived,  brought  to 
mind  a  declaration  of  Cicero,  that  Caesar  used  frequently  a  verse  from 
Euripides  "which  expressed  the  image  of  his  soul,"  that  i(  if  right  and 
justice  were  ever  to  be  violated,  they  were  to  be  violated  for  the  sake  of 


-  Y\ 


ALEXANDKK    HAMILTON. 


SERVICE    IN    THE    CABINET    OF    PRESIDENT    WASHINGTON.  393 

reigning."  Jefferson  believed  he  had  ambitious  designs,  and  "suspected 
what  Gouverneur  Morris  suspected,  that  Hamilton  contemplated  in  some 
crisis  resorting  to  the  s\vord." 

In  1791  begun  a  long  discussion  of  differences  between  the  United 
States  and  Great  Britain,  in  which  the  cause  of  the  United  States  was 
represented  and  ably  defended  by  Mr.  Jefferson,  that  of  England  being 
supported  by  Mr.  Hammond,  who  had  been  accredited  minister  to  the 
United  States  in  August  of  that  year.  The  government  had  received  notice 
that  an  Englishman,  named  Bowles,  was  endeavoring  to  incite  the  Creek 
Indians  to  declare  war  against  the  United  States.  This  being  brought  to  the 
attention  of  Mr.  Hammond,  he  denounced  Bowles  as  an  imposter  in  repre 
senting  himself  an  agent  of  Great  Britain.  Mr.  Jefferson  replied  that  "the 
promptitude  of  the  disavowal  of  what  their  candor  had  forbidden  him  to 
credit  was  a  ne\v  proof  of  their  friendly  dispositions,  and  a  fresh  incitement 
to  both  parties  to  cherish  corresponding  sentiments." 

Weightier  matters  soon  came  before  the  two  ministers.  The  govern 
ment  ckr'med  that  British  fortified  posts  within  the  United  States  had  not 
been  delivered  up,  as  contemplated  in  the  treaty  of  peace;  that  many  negroes 
had  been  carried  off  in  contravention  of  the  s.ane  article;  that  the  river  St. 
Croix.  the  boundary  between  the  United  States  and  Canada,  is  not  the  river 
contemplated  in  the  treat}',  tin-re  being  two  rivers  of  that  name.  Mr. 
Hammond  declared  that  the  United  States  had  violated  sections  of  the 
same  treaty,  and  adduced  an  article  stipulating  that  creditors  of  either 
nation  should  have  no  legal  impediments  thrown  in  the  way  of  recovering 
debts;  that  Congress  should  recommend  the  several  state  legislatures  to 
make  restitution  of  property  of  British  subjects  confiscated  during  the 
war  ;  there  should  be  no  future  confiscations,  nor  prosecutions  of  persons 
for  having  borne  arms  in  the  war.  The  discussion  of  these  questions 
extended  into  the  following  year,  and  was  conducted  with  consummate 
ability  on  both  sides,  but  nothing  definite  was  agreed  upon  during  Mr.  Jef 
ferson's  administration  of  the  department  of  state. 

The  declaration  of  war  between  England  and  France,  in  the  winter  of 
!793>  gave  rise  to  many  conflicting  feelings  in  America.  France,  who  had 
been  an  ally  in  the  war  of  independence,  was  now  assailed  because  she  was 
in  a  weakened  condition.  What  course  should  be  taken  in  the  coming  strug 
gle?  The  sympathy  and  cordial  co-operation  of  a  great  majority  of  the 
people  could  be  depended  on  for  France.  But  how  would  America's  position 
in  the  great  sisterhood  of  nations  be  affected  ?  A  very  few  days  of  delay 
and  every  American  vessel  capable  of  carrying  a  half-dozen  guns,  would  be 
fitted  out,  manned,  and  dispatched  to  capture  British  merchant  vessels. 
The  President  was  at  Mt.  Vernon  when  a  letter  from  Mr.  Jefferson  reached 
him,  informing  him  of  what  had  occurred.  He  immediately  started  by 
the  fastest  post,  for  Philadelphia,  and  on  his  arrival  called  a  meeting  of  his 


394  THOMAS    JEFFERSON. 

cabinet  to  discuss  the  grave  question  before  them.  The  representative  of 
France  was  at  that  time  crossing  the  Atlantic  on  a  peaceful  mission.  Should 
he  be  received  and  recognized?  Jefferson  and  Randolph  at  once  answered 
in  the  affirmative.  Hamilton  and  Knox  saw  no  other  course  open  to  them, 
and  were  obliged  reluctantly  to  acquiesce.  By  the  treaties  of  1/98 — one  of 
"amity  and  commerce,"  the  other  of  ''alliance  "-—French  privateers  might 
enter  our  ports  with  their  prizes,  while  British  war  vessels  were  denied  the 
privilege;  the  United  States  also  guaranteed  the  French  their  possessions 
in  America.  The  king  of  France  had  signed  these  treaties,  but  the 
revolutionists  had  beheaded  him.  Was  a  treaty,  signed  by  the  king  of 
France,  valid,  now  that  he  Avas  murdered,  and  the  government  republican 
in  form?  Mr.  Hamilton  favored  giving  the  new  representative,  M.  Genet, 
a  qualified  reception,  by  declaring  the  question  as  to  the  validity  of  existing 
treaties  reserved.  He  said :  "It  was  from  Louis  XVI.  that  the  United 
States  received  those  succors  which  were  so  important  in  the  establishment 
of  our  independence  and  liberty.  It  was  with  his  heirs  and  successors  that 
they  contracted  their  engagements,  by  which  they  obtained  those  precious 
succors. " 

Mr.  Jefferson  replied  at  length  to  the  arguments  of  Mr.  Hamilton.  He 
said:  "  If  I  do  not  subscribe  to  the  soundness  of  the  secretary  of  the 
treasury's  reasoning,  I  do  most  fully  to  its  ingenuity.  ...  I 
consider  the  people  who  constitute  a  society  or  nation  as  the  source  of  all 
authority  in  that  nation  ;  as  free  to  transact  their  common  concerns  by  any 
agents  they  think  proper;  to  change  these  agents  individually,  or  the  organ 
ization  of  them  in  form  or  function,  whenever  they  please ;  that  all  the  acts 
clone  by  these  agents,  •  under  the  authority  of  the  nation,  are  the  acts  of  the 
nation,  are  obligatory  on  them,  and  inure  to  their  use,  and  can,  in  no  wise, 
be  annulled  or  affected  by^any  change  in  the  form  of  the  government  or  of 
the  persons  administering  it.  Consequently,  the  treaties  between  the  United 
States  and  France  were  riot  treaties  between  the  United  States  and  Louis 
Capet,  but  between  the  two  nations  of  America  and  France ;  and  the 
nations  remaining  in  existence,  though  both  of  them  have  since  changed 
their  forms  of  government,  the  treaties  are  not  annulled  by  these  changes." 
The  President  decided  that  Genet  be  received  without  qualification. 

On  the  8th  of  April  the  frigate  Ly  Evibnscade,  carrying  forty  guns  and 
three  hundred  men,  arrived  in  Charleston  harbor,  having  on  board  the 
ambassador,  M.  Genet.  Following  her  came  a  British  prize,  captured 
during  the  passage,  showing  what  rich  pickings  might  be  taken  by  priva 
teers.  And  this  was  not  all.  Two  prizes  had  been  taken,  the  brig  Little 
Sarah,  and  a  valuable  merchantman,  the  Grange.  A  few  days  later  arrived 
the  French  frigate,  Citizen  Genet,  also  with  two  prizes.  Charleston  at  this 
time  contained  many  wealthy  French  merchants,  all  of  whom  welcomed  the 
ambassador  with  delight,  and  many  requested  commissions  to  engage  in 


SERVICE    IN    THE    CABINET    OF    PRESIDENT    WASHINGTON.  39$ 

privateering.  Two  vessels  were  fitted  out  and  engaged  in  this  lucrative 
business  The  progress  of  Genet  to  Philadelphia  was  an  ovation.  He  was 
received  with  enthusiasm  at  every  point.  Delegations  of  citizens  met  him 
and  delivered  flattering  speeches.  His  self-importance  was  largely  exalted, 
and  led  him  into  acts  which  were  not  consistent  in  the  representative  of  a 
country  nominally  at  peace  with  a  power  hostile  to  France.  The  brig  Little 
Sara/i  was  equipped  and  fitted  out  as  a  privateer,  after  being  christened  the 
Little  Democrat.  Promise  was  made  by  Genet  that  she  would  not  depart 
until  questions  regarding  her  status  were  decided.  A  few  clays  later  she 
dropped  down  the  river  and  was  gone.  Then  was  promulgated  by  Mr. 
Jefferson  the  doctrine  that  was  followed  years  later  in  the  case  of  the  rebel 
vessel  Alabama.  He  informed  M.  Genet  that  the  United  States  would 
assume  the  responsibility  for  the  compensation  of  owners  of  any  prizes 
taken  by  the  Little  Democrat,  ''the  indemnification  to  be  reimbursed  by  the 
French  government." 

Genet  continued  his  efforts  to  inflame  the  passions  of  the  people 
against  Great  Hritain,  and  engaged  in  fitting  out  other  privateers  at  Philadel 
phia  and  New  York.  He  also  attempted  to  organize  an  expedition  against 
the  Spanish  possessions  at  New  Orleans.  The  west  had  long  been  antici 
pating  an  attack  in  this  quarter  in  order  to  gain  free  navigation  of  the  Missis 
sippi.  Fortunately,  no  overt  act  was  committed,  else  the  country  might  have 
become  embroiled  in  a  costly  and  disastrous  war  with  Spain.  The  President 
finally  decided  to  request  the  recall  of  M.  Genet.  This  took  considerable 
time,  all  of  which  was  employed  by  the  latter  in  the  manner  he  deemed 
best  for  his  interests  and  the  interests  of  his  government.  In  due  time  he 
was  recalled,  and  the  French  government  disavowed  his  proceedings.  On 
the  revocation  of  his  commission,  M.  Genet,  who  was  at  the  time  in  New 
York,  married  a  daughter  of  Governor  George  Clinton,  and  ever  after 
remained  a  citizen  of  that  state,  dying  at  Jamaica,  Long  island,  in  1^34. 

In  February,  17^-,  at  a  conference  with  the  President  regarding  the 
post-office,  Mr.  Jefferson  expressed  his  intention  to  resign  from  the  cabinet 
and  retire  to  the  quiet  of  his  home  at  Monticello,  where  he  would  be  free 
to  follow  those  pursuits  most  congenial  to  his  mind.  President  Washing 
ton  had  determined  to  withdraw  from  the  cares  of  office  at  the  close  of  his 
term,  but  urgently  requested  Mr.  Jefferson  to  reconsider  his  determination 
to  resign,  saying  he  felt  the  state  department  to  be  the  most  important 
under  the  government,  ami  that  his  services  were  imperatively  needed  for 
-some  time  to  come.  Mr.  Jefferson  finally  decided  that  he  would  remain  for 
the  time,  though  he  was  determined  on  retirement  at  no  distant  day.  The 
salary  paid  the  secretary  of  state  was  inadequate  to  his  support,  and  he  had 
a  debt  of  thirteen  thousand  dollars  hanging  over  his  head,  which  had  in  a 
manner  been  paid  long  before.  This  debt  related  to  the  estate  derived  by 
Mrs.  Jefferson  from  her  father,  and  was  clue  an  Fnglish  gentleman.  Mr.  Jef 


THOMAS    JEFFERSON. 

ferson,  with  the  intention  of  discharging  this  obligation,  had  sold  a  valuable 
tract  of  land  just  before  the  beginning  of  hostilities,  but  had  used  the  coin 
procured  for  that  purpose  in  the  equipment  of  soldiers  for  the  war,  the  state 
of  Virginia  agreeing  to  pay  the  debt  after  peace  should  be  declared.  This  it 
repudiated,  and  instead  paid  Mr.  Jefferson  dollar  for  dollar  in  the  almost 
valueless  paper  money  of  the  time,  which  had  become  so  depreciated  that 
the  sum  he  received  barely  paid  for  an  overcoat.  The  raid  of  Cornwallis 
and  Tarleton  destroyed  property  aggregating  more  than  the  debt,  but  he 
felt  in  honor  bound  to  its  payment  in  full.  Thus  he  had  valid  reasons  for 
resigning. 

Though  he  had  long  contemplated  retirement  from  the  cabinet,  his 
friendship  for  the  President  and  a  desire  to  give  him  all  the  aid  in  his  power, 
caused  him  to  forego  his  own  convenience  until  near  the  close  of  Washing 
ton's  first  term.  A  second  time,  in  August,  he  subdued  his  inclinations  and 
remained  at  his  post.  Finally,  December  3ist,  he  addressed  the  President 
a  note  inclosing  his  resignation.  He  had  arrived  at  the  point  where  he 
could  no  longer  sacrifice  his  private  interests  even  to  those  of  his  country. 
For  a  period  during  the  troublous  times  following  the  declaration  of  war 
between  England  and  France,  he  had  suffered  contumely  and  neglect 
because  of  his  supposed  sympathy  with  the  people  of  France,  the  interest  of 
the  moneyed  aristocracy  being  centered  in  the  British  trade.  But  the  pub 
lication  of  a  pamphlet  by  the  government  giving  in  full  the  course  pursued 
by  him  in  the  discussion  of  international  questions  with  Edmund  Genet, 
the  French  minister,  and  George  Hammond,  the  representative  of  England, 
placed  these  questions  in  a  new  light.  Besides,  the  ability  he  had  previously 
shown  and  the  influence  he  continually  exerted  for  his  country's  good,  could 
not  be  effaced  from  the  public  mind.  He  retired  from  office  covered  with 
honor,  his  character  for  integrity  unimpeached,  and  the  prejudice  of  his 
ppponents  dissipated. 


ELECTED   VICE    PRESIDENT.  30? 


CHAPTER  V. 

ELECTED  VICE  PRESIDENT. 

DURING  a  period  of  more  than  twenty-five  year?,  Mr.  Jefferson  had 
served  the  country  faithfully,  both  at  home  and  abroad.  His  visits  to 
Monticello  had  been  few  and  brief,  his  opportunities  for  overseeing  his 
farms,  and  the  occasions  afforded  for  the  enjoyment  of  his  daughters'  society, 
limited.  lie  now  returned  to  find  much  of  the  cultivated  portion  of  his  estate 
in  very  bad  condition.  The  management  of  overseers  had  nearly  wrought 
ruin.  Crops  had  been  raised  year  after  year  until  the  soil  was  exhausted, 
when  the  cultivated  portion  was  allowed  to  grow  up  to  a  wilderness  of  ever 
greens  and  bushes,  and  a  new  tract  was  cleared  for  cultivation.  The  growth 
of  tobacco  for  many  years  in  succession  hail  so  reduced  the  fertile  bottoms 
that  the)'  were  incapable  of  producing  one-fourth  of  a  crop  of  corn  or  wheat. 
He  still  had  a  large  quantity  of  unbroken  land.  Of  his  estate  of  more  than 
ten  thousand  acres,  but  about  two  thousand  were  under  cultivation.  He 
immediately  instituted  measures  of  reform  in  the  system  of  cultivation,  and 
himself  took  the  burden  of  management.  The  manor-house  was  incom 
plete,  and  he  extended  and  added  to  it  until  it  approached  his  ideal  of  a 
home.  lie  had  studied  the  theory  of  beautifying  the  landscape,  and  his 
years  of  foreign  travel  and  residence  had  brought  to  his  notice  the  princi 
ples  of  art  as  applied  to  adornment.  The  ideas  his  observing  mind  had 
retained  were  incorporated  into  the  development  of  the  artistic  in  the  sur 
roundings  of  Monticello.  The  result  obtained  was  the  combination  of  art 
and  nature  in  such  a  manner  that  it  was  almost  impossible  to  decide  where 
the  one  began  and  the  other  ended. 

To  say  that  he  was  not  ambitious  would  ill  accord  with  his  course  after 
retirement  from  the  cabinet.  For  several  years  Monticello  was  head 
quarters  of  the  republican  part}-.  Its  owner  was  intimate  with  members  of 
Congress  from  Virginia,  Kentucky,  and  other  southern  states.  Among  his 


3QS  THOMAS    JEFFERSON. 

most  frequent  guests  and  highly  esteemed  friends  were  Mr.  Madison,  Mr. 
Monroe,  and  Mr.  Giles.  Here  was  continued  the  opposition  to  the  federalist 
policy  that  had  marked  his  course  in  the  cabinet,  and  here  were  developed 
plans  for  the  advancement  of  the  republican  party.  From  here  were 
directed  the  attacks  of  the  opposition  journals,  and  from  the  pen  of  Jeffer 
son  emanated  many  of  the  bills  and  resolutions  introduced  into  Congress. 
The  term  of  Washington  as  President  was  nearly  ended.  The  republican 
party  took  decisive  steps  in  announcing  their  candidate  for  the  succession, 
and  that  candidate  was  Thomas  Jefferson.  Whether  he  was  opposed  to  this 
plan  can  not  now  be  known,  but  he  at  least  silently  acquiesced  in  the  move 
ment.  Washington  declined  re-election  to  a  third  term,  and  the  contest  lay 
between  Jefferson  and  Adams.  Washington  had  been  the  popular  candi 
date  of  all  classes,  and  no  element  of  politics  had  entered  into  his  election. 
But  the  time  for  a  change  had  arrived.  The  terms  federalist  and  republican 
had  been  bestowed  upon  the  two  diverse  organizations.  During  «::His  period 
of  political  excitement  Mr.  Jefferson  remained  quietly  at  his  home,  super 
intending  his  farm ;  it  is  to  be  presumed  doing  much  in  the  councils  of  his 
party,  though  writing  but  one  political  letter — to  Mr.  Madison — during  the 
campaign.  The  mode  of  deciding  the  Presidential  election  was  different 
from  that  followed  at  the  present  time.  The  candidates  were  John  Adams 
and  Thomas  Pinckney,  on  the  part  of  the  federalists ;  Thomas  Jefferson  and 
Aaron  Burr,  on  that  of  the  republicans.  The  vote  in  the  electoral  college 
^>f  1796  stood  for  Mr.  Adams,  seventy-one;  for  Mr.  Jefferson,  sixty-eight; 
for  Mr.  Pinckney,  fifty-nine ;  for  Mr.  Burr,  thirty ;  for  Samuel  Adams, 
fifteen  ;  for  Oliver  Ellsworth,  eleven  ;  for  John  Jay,  five ;  for  George  Clin 
ton,  seven  ;  and  ten  scattering  votes  among  five  candidates.  Mr.  Adams 
receiving  the  greatest  number  of  votes  was  declared  President  Thomas 
Jefferson  received  the  next  largest  number  and  was  chosen  Vice  President. 
Mr.  Adams  received  the  entire  vote  of  his  state— Massachusetts — and  Mr. 
Jefferson  received  the  same  compliment  from  Virginia.  Jefferson's  defeat 
was  undoubtedly  caused  by  some  feeling  engendered  during  his  connection 
with  the  cabinet  of  Washington,  in  which  many  of  his  acts  had  received 
severe  criticism. 

It  was  believed  by  many,  and  ardently  hoped  by  some,  that  he  would 
decline  the  second  place  in  the  government.  To  prove  to  all  that  he  would 
not  refuse  the  honor  conferred  upon  him,  he  undertook  a  winter  journey  to 
Philadelphia,  for  the  purpose  of  presiding  at  the  special  session  of  the  Sen 
ate,  which  was  not  likely  to  occupy  more  than  one  day.  In  a  letter  to  his 
friend  Mr.  Madison,  he  particularly  requested  that  he  be  made  no  part  in  a 
parade  or  ceremony.  He  arrived  at  Philadelphia  the  2d  of  March,  and 
notwithstanding  his  wishes  for  a  quiet  entrance,  a  body  of  militia  was 
expecting  him,  and  he  was  received  with  a  thundering  salute  from  artil 
lery  ;  the  militia  escorted  him  through  the  streets  bearing  a  banner  on 


ELECTED    VICE    PRESIDENT.  399 

which  were  inscribed  the  familiar  words,  "Jefferson,  the  friend  of  the  people." 
He  made  an  early  call  upon  the  President-elect,  at  his  lodgings,  which  was 
returned  the  following  morning.  During  this  interview  Mr.  Adams  men 
tioned  his  desire  to  send  an  immediate  mission  to  France,  and  that  his 
mind  had  reverted  to  Mr.  Jefferson  as  the  most  proper  person  to  perform 
that  mission,  but  he  doubted  if  the  Constitution  would  permit  the  sending 
of  the  Vice  President  on  a  foreign  mission.  He  therefore  proposed  three 
others,  Mr.  Gerry,  Mr.  Madison,  and  Mr.  Pinckney.  Mr.  Jefferson  replied 
that  his  inclination  would  not  permit  of  his  again  representing  the  govern 
ment  at  a  foreign  court,  and  concurred  in  the  view  of  Mr.  Adams  as  to  its 
impropriety  in  the  present  instance.  In  compliance  with  Mr.  Adams' 
request,  he  conferred  with  Mr.  Madison  regarding  his  acceptance  of  the 
appointment,  which  was  declined. 

The  oath  of  office  as  Vice  President,  and  president  of  the  Senate,  was 
administered  by  William  Bingham,  president  pro  tcmporc  of  that  body,  Sat 
urday,  March  4,  1797,  and  immediately  Mr.  Jefferson  addressed  the  mem 
bers  thereof.  He  then  conducted  the  Senate  to  the  hall  of  the  House  of 
Representatives,  where  the  ceremony  of  inducting  the  President  into  office 
was  to  take  place.  The  retiring  President,  George  Washington,  was 
received  with  cheers,  which  were  repeated  when  Mr.  Adams  entered. 
After  the  inaugural  address  had  been  delivered,  the  chief  justice  adminis 
tered  the  oath  of  office  to  Mr.  Adams  in  clear  tones,  which  were  repeated 
with  emphasis.  The  President  then  took  his  seat,  but  soon  arose  and  left 
the  hall,  bowing  to  the  assembly  as  he  did  so.  Washington  and  Jefferson 
arose  at  the  same  moment,  and  the  Vice  President  awaited  the  retirement 
of  the  chief,  but  Washington  declined  to  take  precedence,  and  followed  Jef 
ferson,  the  cheers  of  the  multitude  attending  them. 

The  following  Monday  both  dined  with  General  Washington  ;  both 
departed  from  his  house  at  the  same  moment,  and  together  they  walked 
down  the  street  toward  their  respective  residences.  During  the  walk  Mr 
Jefferson  informed  the  President  of  the  declension  by  Mr.  Madison,  of  the 
office  of  commissioner  to  the  court  of  France.  Mr.  Adams  evinced  some 
embarrassment  when  the  matter  was  broached,  and  stammered  excuses 
regarding  the  appointment  of  Mr.  Madison,  until  the  point  was  reached 
where  their  ways  diverged,  when  he  bade  his  companion  a  hasty  adieu.  The 
thing  that  troubled  him  was  made  plain.  He  had  attended  a  meeting  of 
his  cabinet  that  day,  and  had  there  met  the  followers  of  Hamilton,  who  were 
ready  to  determine  that  no  member  of  the  republican  part}'  should  be 
allowed  an  important  office  under  the  new  government,  threatening  to 
resign  in  case  the  President  did  not  accede  to  their  wishes.  Mr.  Adams 
weakly  yielded,  doing,  however,  that  which  was  in  accord  with  the  princi 
ples  and  wishes  of  the  great  majority  of  his  party.  He  never  afterward 
consulted  the  Vice  President  in  any  measures  connected  with  his  "'niinistra- 


4OO  THOMAS    JEFFERSON. 

tion,  although   they  exchanged  the   civilities  which  their  ancient  friendship 
and  present  situation  demanded. 

Mr.  Jefferson  returned  to  Monticello,  leaving  Philadelphia  March  I2th, 
and  reaching  home  the  2Oth  of  the  same  month.  On  the  25th  the  Presi 
dent  called  an  extra  session  of  Congress  to  meet  May  I5th,  and  take  under 
advisement  the  policy  to  be  pursued  in  intercourse  with  France.  That 
government  had  refused  to  receive  the  American  commissioners.  Mr. 
Pinckney  and  Mr.  Monroe  had  called  on  the  minister  of  foreign  affairs, 
who  informed  them  that  the  directory  had  instructed  him  to  say  ''that  it 
would  no  longer  recognize  nor  receive  a  minister  plenipotentiary  from  the 
United  States,  until  after  a  reparation  of  the  grievances  demanded  of  the 
American  government,  and  which  the  French  republic  had  a  right  to 
expect."  The  President,  in  his  speech,  recommended  preparations  for  war, 
the  creation  of  a  navy,  erection  of  fortifications,  fitting  out  of  privateers, 
and  reorganization  of  the  militia.  The  grievance  complained  of  by  France 
was  that  England  had  secured  greater  commercial  privileges  than  had  been 
accorded  our  ally  of  the  war  of  the  Revolution.  The  subject  was  fully  dis 
cussed  in  Congress,  and  finally  moderate  measures  were  adopted.  The  vic 
tories  of  Bonaparte  over  the  combined  armies  of  Europe,  intelligence  of 
which  was  received  during  the  session  of  Congress,  had  much  to  do  in  influ 
encing  this  vote.  Jefferson  had  entirely  disapproved  of  this  course,  declar 
ing  ' '  everything  pacific  could  have  been  done  without  Congress,  and  he 
hoped  nothing  was  contemplated  which  was  not  pacific."  On  the  6th  of 
July  Mr.  Jefferson  yielded  the  chair  to  Mr.  Bradford,  of  Rhode  Island,  who 
became  president //'<?  tcmporc  of  the  Senate,  according  to  custom  ;  he  left 
Philadelphia  the  same  day  and  reached  home  the  nth,  adjournment  not 
taking  place  until  the  I2th. 

The  declension  by  Mr.  Madison  of  the  appointment  as  one  of  the  min 
isters  plenipotentiary  to  France  resulted  in  the  appointment  of  Elbridge 
Gerry,  of  Massachusetts,  in  conjunction  with  C.  C.  Pinckney  and  John  Mar 
shall.  Gerry  was  a  member  of  the  republican  party ;  Pinckney  and 
Marshall  were  federalists.  On  their  arrival  in  Paris,  the  two  latter  were 
refused  letters  of  hospitality,  and  Gerry  was  requested  to  remain,  which  he 
was  constrained  to  do  in  an  unofficial  capacity.  He  was  informed  that 
his  retirement  in  the  present  state  of  affairs  would  result  in  a  declaration 
of  war.  Mr.  Gerry  remained,  although  he  was  well  aware  that  his  pri 
vate  business  would  suffer  during  his  absence,  as  it  did,  resulting  in  his 
financial  ruin.  He  had  been  warmly  urged  by  Mr.  Jefferson  to  accept  the 
mission.  The  latter  wrote  him  :  "  If  we  engage  in  a  war  during  our  present 
passions,  and  our  present  weakness  in  some  quarters,  our  union  runs  the 
greatest  risk  of  not  coming  out  of  that  war  in  the  shape  in  which  it  enters  it. 
My  reliance  for  our  preservation  is  in  your  acceptance  of  this  mission.  I 
know  the  tender  circumstances  which  will  oppose  themselves  to  it.  But  its 


AARON     BURR. 


ELECVKD    VICE    PRESIDENT. 

duration  will  be  short,  and  its  reward  long.  You  have  it  in  your  power,  by 
accepting  and  determining  the  character  of  the  mission,  to  secure  the  pres 
ent  peace  and  eternal  union  of  your  country.  If  you  decline  on  motives  of 
private  pain,  a  substitute  may  be  named  who  has  enlisted  his  passions  in 
the  present  contest,  and,  by  the  preponderance  of  his  vote  in  the  mission, 
may  entail  on  us  calamities,  your  share  in  which  as  your  feelings,  will  out 
weigh  whatever  pain  a  temporary  absence  from  your  family  could  give  you." 
Alexander  Hamilton  was  jealous  of  place  and  power.  lie  believed 
himself  the  greatest  political  leader  in  America,  and  could  he  precipitate 
war  with  France  he  would  also  be  the  greatest  military  leader.  His  efforts 
were  not  directed  to  the  consideration  of  peace  propositions,  but  rather  to 
the  fomenting  of  discord.  He  must,  in  the  nature  of  attendant  circum 
stances,  be  very  circumspect,  and  outwardly  assume  to  desire  peace,  while 
he  was  slyly  intriguing  for  war.  At  the  very  time  Gerry,  Pinckney,  and 
Marshall  were  endeavoring  to  come  to  terms  with  France,  he  was  plotting 
with  a  South  American,  one  Miranda,  who  was  in  correspondence  with  the 
British  minister,  Pitt,  with  the  design  of  securing  possession  of  Florida,  and 
the  Spanish  colonies  in  South  America.  The  refusal  of  France  to  receive 
the  commissioner*  was  sufficient  to  arouse  President  Adams,  and  engage 
him  in  preparations  for  defense.  These  actions  did  not  escape  the  far- 
seeing  mind  of  Jefferson  from  his  seat  in  the  Vice  President's  chair. 
He  endeavored  to  enlighten  the  public  on  the  questions  at  issue,  at 
at  the  same  time  he  restrained  the  impetuous  and  over-anxious.  Madison 
was  solicited  to  write  articles  for  the  press,  on  the  side  of  peace.  Some 
prominent  and  influential  men  of  the  southern  states  thought  the  time  had 
come  to  cut  loose  from  the  Union,  but  this  did  not  at  all  accord  with 
the  pronounced  views  of  Jefferson,  who  sa\v  in  the  Union  the  great  element 
of  strength  and  prosperity.  'I  he  message  of  the  President,  delivered  to 
Congress  in  March,  1798,  inflamed  that  body,  and  there  was  for  a  time 
grave  doubt  that  peace  would  be  maintained.  The  republican  party  was  in  a 
small  minority  and  the  federalists  were  triumphant.  Jefferson  never  swerved 
from  the  course  he  had  followed  for  years, — the  course  demanded  if  he 
would  see  the  United  States  remain  a  compact  body,  gaining  strength  with 
each  year  of  its  existence.  To  him,  and  others  of  like  view,  is  due  the 
preservation  of  peace  at  that  time.  A  great  amount  of  correspondence  was 
carried  on  between  the  United  States  and  France,  concerning  the  complica 
tions  that  had  arisen.  President  Adams  finally  became  convinced  that  the 
directory  of  France  was  desirous  for  peace  between  the  two  nations.  In 
fact,  it  immediately  took  measures  to  prevent  its  naval  vessels  from  doing 
any  further  act  on  the  high  seas  that  would  be  liable  to  precipitate 
war.  The  return  of  Flbridge  Gerry  from  the  French  capital,  the  1st  of 
October,  1/98,  put  a  new  face  on  the  matter.  lie  had  been  detained  at 
Havre  until  the  director}'  had  furnished  him  a  cop}'  of  an  order  to  the  naval 


4O2  THOMAS   JEFFERSON. 

commander  in  the  waters  of  the  West  Indies  restraining  the  detention  and 
spoliation  of  American  merchantmen.  Mr.  Gerry's  report,  together  with 
subsequent  communications  through  official  channels,  led  to  the  appoint 
ment  of  a  commission  which  executed  a  treaty  that  has  secured  peace  from 
that  time  to  this. 

In  the  month  of  October,  1800,  the  seat  of  government  was  removed  to 
Washington,  then  a  city  on  paper  with  little  more  than  the  incomplete 
public  buildings  to  promise  that  it  would  be  anything  other.  Members  of 
Congress  were  obliged  to  take  up  their  quarters  at  Georgetown,  three  miles 
distant,  over  roads  as  nearly  impassable  during  portions  of  the  year  as  it  is 
possible  to  conceive,  or  live  in  half  finished  buildings,  perhaps  with  neither 
windows  nor  doors.  One  house  of  entertainment  was  situated  some  forty 
rods  from  the  capital.  Gouverneur  Morris  aptly  describes  the  embryo  city 
to  a  lady  acquaintance  in  Europe.  He  says:  "  We  want  nothing  here  but 
houses,  cellars,  kitchens,  well-informed  men,  amiable  women,  and  other 
little  trifles  of  this  kind  to  make  our  city  perfect ;  for  we  can  walk  here  as  if 
in  the  fields  and  woods,  and,  considering  the  hard  frost,  the  air  of  the  city 
is  very  pure.  I  enjoy  more  of  it  than  anyone  else,  for  my  room  is  filled 
with  smoke  whenever  the  door  is  shut.  If,  then,  you  are  desirous  of  coming 
to  live  at  Washington,  in  order  to  confirm  you  in  so  fine  a'  prospect,  I  hasten 
to  assure  you,  that  freestone  is  very  abundant  here;  that  excellent  bricks 
can  be  burned  here;  that  there  is  no  want  of  sites  for  magnificent  hotels; 
that  contemplated  canals  can  bring  a  vast  commerce  to  this  place ;  that  the 
wealth,  which  is  its  natural  consequence,  must  attract  the  fine  arts  hither; 
in  short,  that  it  is  the  very  best  city  in  the  world  for  a  future  residence. 


SUCCEEDS  JOHN    ADAMS    AS   PRESIDENT. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

SUCCEEDS  JOHN  ADAMS  AS  PRESIDENT. 

DURING  the  last  session  of  the  sixth  Congress,  cr.ucuses  were  held 
by  both  parties  for  the  nomination  of  candidates  for  President  and 
Vice  President.  Hamilton  was  soured  by  disappointment  caused  by  the 
failure  of  his  schemes  against  France  in  attacking  the  Spanish  possessions  in 
South  America,  and  refused  to  support  Adams  for  the  Presidency.  He  first 
attempted  to  draw  Washington  into  his  net,  but  this  proving  impossible  he 
endeavored  to  elect  General  C.  C.  Pinckney,  who  was  nominated  to  the  sec 
ond  place  on  the  federal  ticket,  Adams  being  accorded  the  first.  The  result 
was  a  division  in  the  party  that  could  but  be  disastrous.  If  Hamilton  could 
secure  the  state  of  New  York  to  the  federalist  part}'  his  plan  was  assured, 
for  the  south  could  be  expected  to  furnish  enough  votes  to  elect  Mr.  Pinck 
ney  P.resident,  leaving  for  Mr.  Adams  the  second  place.  The  state  election 
in  New  York  was  held  in  April,  but  a  month  elapsed  before  the  result  was 
known.  It  proved  an  overwhelming  defeat  to  Hamilton,  and  also  put  a 
damper  on  the  expectations  of  Mr.  Adams. 

The  candidates  of  the  republican  part}'  were  Thomas  Jefferson  for 
President,  and  Aaron  Burr  for  Vice  President.  A  change  had  taken  place 
in  the  two  parties.  During  the  excitement  consequent  on  probable  war  with 
France  the  republican  part}-  had  dwindled  to  insignificant  proportions.  The 
signing  of  a  treat}-  of  peace  reinforced  its  ranks  until  it  became  stronger 
than  ever  before.  The  result  of  the  election  in  New  York  inspired  hope  of 
ultimate  success  to  the  part}'.  P>urr,  the  candidate  for  Vice  President,  was 
an  unscrupulous  schemer  who  would  stop  at  nothing  for  the  accomplishment 
of  his  ends.  The  defeat  of  the  federal  part}-  in  New  York  was  parti}-  to  be 
attributed  to  his  efforts  in  causing  the  names  of  Brockholst  Livingston  and 
George  Clinton  to  be  placed  on  the  republican  ticket,  thus  securing  the 
votes  and  influence  of  these  powerful  families  and  their  adherents  to  the 
party,  though  they  were  personally  inimical  to  himself.  When  the  result  of 


-404  THOMAS    JEFFEJK3OV. 

the  vote  was  known  to  be  against  the  federalists,  Burr  sought  by  intrigue  to 
secure  a  majority  of  the  electoral  college,  which  would  elect  himself  to  the 
first  place  on  the  ticket,  and  compel  Jefferson  to  accept  the  second  place,  or 
decline  to  serve. 

The  election  of  1800  was  closely  contested,  and  not  until  the  ballots 
were  cast  did  people  breathe  freely.  Then  ensued  a  few  weeks  of  compar 
ative  quiet.  On  the  iith  of  February,  1801,  the  two  houses  of  Congress 
met  for  the  purpose  of  opening  the  electoral  certificates.  It  was  found  that 
Thomas  Jefferson  had  seventy-three;  Aaron  Burr  seventy-three;  John 
Adams  sixty-five;  Charles  C.  Pinckney  sixty-four;  John  Jay  one  vote 
This  threw  the  election  into  the  House  of  Representatives,  which  withdrew 
to  its  hall,  and  organized.  It  was  resolved  that  no  motion  for  adjournment 
be  in  order  until  the  result  could  be  announced.  On  the  first  ballot,  eight 
states  voted  for  Jefferson,  six  for  Burr,  and  two  were  equally  divided.  Seven 
ballots  were  taken  with  like  result,  when  the  House  took  a  recess.  Ballot 
ing  was  continued  from  day  to  day  until  the  i/th.  when  the  thirty-sixth 
ballot  decided  the  contest,  ten  states  voting  for  Thomas  Jefferson,  and  four 
for  Aaron  Burr.  Delaware  and  South  Carolina  voted  blanks,  as  did  Mary 
land,  which  state  had  previously  voted  for  Burr.  The  vote  was  thus  made 
•unanimous — Jefferson  for  President,  and  Burr  for  Vice  President.  That 
Mr.  Burr  was  much  chagrined  at  the  result  of  his  schemes  is  evident  from 
his  future  course.  It  is  believed  his  disappointment  in  the  election  was  the 
cause  of  his  treasonable  attempts  of  a  few  years  later. 

On  the  4th  of  March,  1801,  Thomas  Jefferson  entered  the  Senate 
chamber  to  take  the  oath  of  office  as  President  of  the  United  States. 
Aaron  Burr  had  already  entered  upon  the  duties  of  Vice  President,  and 
taken  his  seat  as  presiding  officer  of  the  Senate.  With  the  entrance  of  Mr. 
Jefferson  Mr.  Burr  gave  up  the  chair  and  took  a  seat  at  the  right.  The 
chief  justice  occupied  the  seat  on  the  left.  Mr.  Jefferson  delivered  his 
inaugural  address, — a  very  moderate  and  carefully  worded  paper,  which  sur 
prised  many,  both  of  his  friends  and  enemies.  He  was  disposed  to  con 
ciliate  as  far  as  possible,  at  the  same  time  that  he  relinquished  not  one  iota 
of  the  republican  principles  for  which  he  had  so  long  labored.  After  the 
delivery  of  the  address  the  oath  of  office  was  administered  by  the  chief 
justice.  A  noticeable  r*nd  deliberate  slight  was  thrown  upon  the  incoming 
President  in  the  absence  of  ex-President  Adams  and  the  speaker  of  the 
House  of  Representatives.  Mr.  Adams  had  ungraciously  taken  his  depar 
ture  from  the  city  in  the  early  morning;  the  cause  of  absence  of  the  speaker 
is  unknown.  After  the  close  of  the  exercises  connected  with  the  inaugura 
tion,  many  persons  of  both  parties  called  upon  the  President  and  Vice  Pres 
ident. 

March  5th,  the  President  sent  to  the  Senate  the  names  of  persons  he 
had  selected  to  serve  as  members  of  his  cabinet.  They  were :  James  Mad- 


SUCCEEDS    JOHN    ADAMS    AS    PRESIDENT.  405 

ison,  of  Virginia,  secretary  of  state  ;  Henry  Dearborn,  of  Massachusetts, 
secretary  of  war  ;  and  Levi  Lincoln,  of  Massachusetts,  attorney-general, 
all  of  whom  were  confirmed  by  the  Senate 'on  the  same  day.  May  I4th  he 
sent  in  the  names  of  Albert  Gallatin,  of  Pennsylvania,  for  the  office  of  sec 
retary  of  the  treasury.  Samuel  Smith,  of  Maryland,  served  as  secretary  of 
the  navy  from  the  1st  to  the  1 5th  of  April,  when  his  brother,  Robert  Smith, 
succeeded  him  in  that  office.  Gideon  Granger,  of  Connecticut,  was  con 
firmed  as  postmaster-genen'l,  the  26th  of  January,  1802.  Rufus  King  was 
accredited  minister  to  England,  and  Robert  R.  Livingston  to  France. 

Man\'  strictures  have  been  made  regarding  the  action  of  President  Jef 
ferson  in  writing  a  letter  to  Thomas  Paine,  then  in  France,  allowing  him  to 
return  to  the  United  States  in  a  government  vessel.  Paine's  pronounced 
atheistical  views  had  particularly  embittered  the  New  Fngland  clergy,  and 
from  their  pulpits  and  by  means  of  pamphlets  the}'  attacked  both  the  man 
and  his  principles.  Jefferson  was  not  omitted  in  their  denunciations.  They 
overlooked  the  great  services  of  Paine  to  the  country  in  opposing  British 
aggressions,  and  in  signing  the  declaration  of  independence,  and  looked 
only  at  his  infidelity.  There  was  just  ground  for  the  course  pursued  by  the 
President.  Paine  was  a  citizen  of  the  United  States,  alone  in  a  foreign 
country.  By  birth  a  subject  of  Great  Britain,  what  was  more  likel}'  than 
that  he  would  be  impressed  into  the  British  service  by  an}'  armed  vessel 
prosecuting  the  search,  then  claimed  by  that  nation?  Justice  to  the  man 
who  had  so  nobly  stood  by  the  colonies  in  the  struggle  for  freedom 
demanded  that  he  be  accorded  the  full  protection  afforded  by  the  flag  he 
had  been  in  no  small  measure  instrumental  in  unfurling  to  the  sisterhood  of 
nations. 

Among  the  most  weighty  problems  to  be  solved  by  President  Jefferson 
was  that  of  the  removal  of  officers  connected  with  the  federalist  party. 
The  principle  enunciated  at  a  later  da}-  by  William  L.  Marcy,  that  "to  the 
victors  belong  the  spoils,"  had  not  been  established.  Men  fitted  to  fill  the 
offices  the}'  held  were  generally  retained,  and  not  removed  to  give  place  to 
the  supporters  of  the  incoming  President.  But  there  was  good  reason  for 
the  removal  of  some  of  the  later  appointees  under  the  preceding  adminis 
tration.  President  Adams  had  made  appointments  as  late  as  nine  o'clock 
of  the  night  on  which  his  term  as  President  would  expire,  with  the  un 
doubted  intention  of  defrauding  Mr.  Jefferson  of  his  choice  in  the  matter. 
It  was  at  once  decided  that  these  appointments  should  not  be  recognized; 
and  Congress  passed  a  law  abolishing  the  offices.  It  seemed  perfectly 
proper  that  the  President  should  select  his  own  advisers,  and  this  was  con 
ceded  by  the  opposition.  Several  persons  in  office  must  be  dismissed  for 
cause,  and  further,  a  balance  should  be  made  between  federal  and  republican 
officers.  Heretofore  none  but  members  of  the  party  in  power  had  held 
office,  except  in  one  or  two  cases,  in  the  higher  grades.  Even  these 


4O6  THOMAS    JEFFERSON. 

changes  called  forth  much  vituperation  and  abuse  from  the  federalists,  while 
the  members  of  his  own  party  were  greatly  incensed  that  all  federalists  were 
not  removed.  Jefferson  aimed  at  establishing  principles,  and  his  course 
seems  the  best  that  could  have  been  followed  under  the  circumstances. 

Another  important  measure  in  the  early  part  of  his  administration  was 
directed  to  the  punishment  of  the  Barbary  powers  for  their  piratical  acts 
committed  upon  American  vessels  and  the  holding  of  captives  in  slavery 
until  ransomed  by  the  payment  of  large  sums  of  money.  He  dispatched 
Commodore  Dale,  with  four  of  the  six  naval  vessels  retained  in  commission, 
to  check  and  punish  these  aggressions.  One  of  the  war  vessels  of  Tripoli 
engaged  the  smaller  of  these  vessels,  a  sloop  under  command  of  Lieutenant 
Sterrett,  and  was  captured  without  the  loss  of  a  man.  Having  no  authority 
to  bring  the  captured  vessel  into  port,  she  was  allowed  to  go,  being  com 
pletely  disabled  from  further  service.  This  was  the  beginning  of  retributive 
measures  that,  followed  up  by  Decatur,  Bainbridge,  Barren,  Truxton,  and 
others,  brought  the  corsairs  to  terms.  The  result  could  have  been  attained 
years  before  had  decisive  action  been  taken,  thus  preventing  much  suffering 
endured  by  captives,  and  the  expenditure  of  large  sums  of  money  for  their 
ransom.  Previous  to  this  time  tribute  money  had  been  paid  annually  to 
these  powers  to  insure  their  non-interference  with  American  vessels. 

State  ceremony  was  effectually  done  away  with  at  the  beginning  of  the 
new  administration.  A  new  order  of  things  was  instituted.  The  President's 
levees  were  a  thing  of  the  past  ;  instead  of  the  ceremony  of  marching  to  the 
capitol  to  deliver  his  annual  message,  a  messenger  was  dispatched  to  Con 
gress  ;  the  reply  was  received  in  the  same  unostentatious  manner,  instead 
of  observing  the  formality  of  Congress  marching  to  the  President's  house  for 
its  delivery  ;  the  diplomatic  establishment  in  Europe  was  reduced  to  three 
ministers  ;  the  army  was  reorganized  and  the  navy  reduced  ;  all  superfluous 
offices  Avere  abolished.  Some  ladies  and  gentlemen  in  Washington,  who 
desired  a  continuance  of  the  levees,  formed  a  plan  to  that  end.  They  gath 
ered  at  the  Presidential  mansion  in  full  dress,  at  the  usual  time  for  the  recep 
tion.  Mr.  Jefferson  happened  to  be  riding  on  their  arrival,  and  on  his 
return,  being  informed  of  what  had  occurred,  entered  the  reception  room  in 
his  riding  dress,  top  boots,  spurs,  riding  whip,  and  garments  soiled  with 
mud.  He  expressed  much  pleasure  at  meeting  so  many  of  his  friends, 
cordially  shook  hands  and  conversed  with  them,  and  allowed  none  to  go 
without  pressing  them  to  remain  longer.  Those  present  acknowledged 
themselves  outwitted,  and  never  repeated  the  experiment. 

Congress  met,  as  usual,  on  the  /th  of  December.  Mr.  Macon  was 
chosen  speaker,  and  Mr.  Buckley  clerk  of  the  House.  The  President  did 
not,  as  had  been  the  custom,  open  Congress  with  a  formal  speech,  but 
instead  transmitted  to  the  Vice  President,  as  president  of  that  body,  his 
annual  message,  accompanying  it  with  a  communication  explanatory  of  his 


SUCCEEDS    JOHN    ADAMS    AS    PRESIDENT. 


407 


reason  for  so  doing.  It  is  worthy  of  insertion  in  this  connection.  It  reads: 
"SiR, — The  circumstances  under  which  we  find  ourselves  at  this  place  ren 
dering  inconvenient  the  mode  heretofore  practiced  of  making,  by  personal 
address,  the  first  communications  between  the  legislative  and  executive 
branches,  I  have  adopted  that  by  message,  as  used  on  all  subsequent  occa 
sions  through  the  session.  In  doing  this  I  have  had  principal  regard  to  the 
convenience  of  the  legislature,  to  the  economy  of  their  time,  to  their  relief 
from  the  embarrassment  of  immediate  answers  on  subjects  not  yet  fully 
before  them,  and  to  the  benefits  thence  resulting  to  the  public  affairs. 
Trusting  that  a  procedure,  founded  on  these  motives,  will  meet  their  appro 
bation,  I  beg  leave,  through  you,  sir,  to  communicate  the  enclosed  copy, 
with  the  documents  accompanying  it,  to  the  honorable  body  the  Senate,  and 
pny  you  to  accept  for  yourself  and  them,  the  homage  of  my  high  regard  and 
consideration." 

In  his  message  the  President  recommended  several  important  measures, 
most  of  which  received  due  consideration  and  attention.  The  judiciary  act 
passed  during  the  preceding  session  was  repealed,  by  one  majority  in  the 
Senate,  and  by  a  vote  of  fifty-nine  to  thirty-two  in  the  House.  The  census 
of  l.Xoo  showed  the  aggregate  population  of  the  United  States  to  be  five 
million  three  hundred  and  five  thousand  nine  hundred  and  twenty-five. 
Accordingly  a  new  apportionment  bill  was  passed,  fixing  the  ratio  of  congres 
sional  representation  at  one  member  for  each  thirty  thousand  population. 
This  gave  the  I  louse  one  hundred  and  forty-one  members.  An  act  was 
passed  establishing  the  army  on  a  pence  footing,  consisting  of  one  regiment 
of  artillery  and  two  regiments  of  infantry.  The  naval  establishment  was 
limited  to  six  vessels.  Internal  taxes  on  stills,  domestic  distilled  spirits, 
refined  sugars,  licenses  to  retailers,  sales  at  auction,  carriages  for  the  con 
veyance  of  persons,  stamped  vellum,  parchment,  paper,  etc.,  were  abolished. 
The  naturalization  laws  were  reconstructed,  placing  them  on  the  old  footing 
— five  years  residence  and  three  years  previous  oath  of  intention  to  become 
a  permanent  resident  before  papers  were  issued;  provision  was  made  for 
the  redemption  of  the  whole  of  the  United  States  debt;  and  laws  pro 
vided  to  regulate  trade  and  preserve  peace  with  the  Indian  tribes  on  the 
frontier.  Other  important  acts  were  passed  which  it  is  impracticable  to 
mention  here. 

The  right  of  the  United  States  to  unimpeded  navigation  of  the  Missis 
sippi  river  to  New  Orleans,  was  refused  by  Spain  in  the  autumn  of  1802. 
Great  indignation  was  expressed  by  the  people  of  the  western  settlements 
over  this  action  ;  in  fact  the  entire  country  was  aroused.  Soon  thereafter 
the  government  received  intimation  that  Spain  was  about  transferring  her 
right  of  possession  in  Louisiana  to  France.  A  change  of  this  nature  was 
manifestly  to  the  disadvantage  of  the  United  States.  As  long  as  Spain 
remained  in  possession  no  danger  was  to  be  feared,  but  should  France  secure 


4O8  THOMAS    JEFFERSON. 

this  vast  territory  and  be  enabled  to  successfully  colonize  it,  the  outlet  to 
the  Mississippi  would  be  practically  closed  to  our  commerce.  The  only 
course  to  be  followed  in  such  case,  would  be  its  purchase  from  France,  or 
an  alliance,  offensive  and  defensive,  with  England.  France  did  secure 
Louisiana.  Bonaparte  perfected  plans  to  colonize  the  territory.  President 
Jefferson  instructed  Mr.  Livingston  to  purchase  the  country  for  two  million 
dollars,  if  it  could  be  done  without  compromising  our  relations  with  England. 
Efforts  to  this  end  were  made,  and  for  a  long  time  repelled,  but  eventually 
the  first  consul  found  it  would  be  impracticable  to  hold  the  country  ;  besides, 
France  would  run  great  danger  of  losing  her  West  India  possessions.  Mr. 
Monroe  was  dispatched  to  Paris  to  assist  Mr.  Livingston,  and  fully  empow 
ered  to  make  the  purchase.  France  was  on  the  eve  of  war  with  England, 
and  no  time  wras  to  be  lost  if  she  expected  to  receive  any  compensation  in 
the  transaction.  A  convention  was  called  and  definite  treaty  arrangements 
entered  into  by  which  Louisiana  was  ceded  to  the  United  States,  on  the 
payment  of  a  gross  sum  amounting  to  about  fifteen  million  dollars.  The 
United  States  was  to  pay  certain  claims  of  its  citizens  against  France,  for 
property  seized  and  destroyed  on  the  high  seas,  amounting  in  all  to  some 
three  million  seven  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars.  The  ports  of 
Louisiana  were  to  be  open  to  French  vessels  for  a  term  of  twelve  years,  on 
paying  the  same  duties  as  were  required  of  American  vessels.  The  ceded 
country  was  to  be  admitted  into  the  Union  as  soon  as  the  Constitution 
permitted.  More  than  one  million  square  miles  and  a  population  of  ninety 
thousand  souls,  including  slaves,  were  thus  secured  to  the  United  States 
on  the  most  reasonable  terms.  The  purchase  of  Louisiana  received  any 
thing  but  favorable  consideration  from  the  federalists,  of  whom  but  one 
member  in  the  Senate  voted  for  the  treaty.  It  \vas  claimed  no  evidence 
existed  of  a  treaty  of  cession  from  Spain  to  France,  and  therefore  WTC  had 
no  legal  title  to  the  territory.  Some  claimed  its  acquisition  would  prove  a 
curse  to  us  ;  others  that  fifteen  million  dollars  was  an  enormous  price  to 
pay,  but  time  proven  the  purchase  to  be  of  great  advantage  to  the  country. 
Recognizing  the  importance  of  thorough  and  accurate  knowledge  of  the 
vast  extent  of  country  acquired  by  the  United  States  with  their  independ 
ence,  Mr.  Jefferson,  while  minister  to  France,  suggested  to  Ledyard,  the 
traveler,  an  exploration  of  western  North  America.  Nothing  came  of  it, 
ho\vever.  In  1792  he  made  a  similar  proposition  to  the  American  Philosoph 
ical  society;  and  Michaux,  the  celebrated  traveler  and  botanist,  proceeded 
as  far  as  Kentucky,  when  he  \vas  recalled  by  the  French  minister.  In 
January,  1803,  in  a  confidential  message  to  Congress,  the  President  recom 
mended  an  appropriation  for  this  purpose.  It  was  granted,  and  he  appointed 
Captain  Meriwether  Lewis,  who  had  been  his  private  secretary  nearly  two 
years,  to  the  command  of  an  expedition,  with  Captain  Jonathan  Clark, 
brother  of  General  George  Rogers  Clark,  as  his  second  officer.  Their 


SUCCEEDS   JOHN    ADAMS    AS    PRESIDENT.  409 

travels  extended  to  the  Pacific  ocean  on  the  west,  and  the  Columbia  river  on 
the  north,  and  the  reports  they  sent  in  from  time  to  time  gave  a  more 
definite  idea  of  our  natural  resources  in  this  hitherto  unexplored  region  than 
had  ever  been  known.  It  was  Mr.  Jefferson  also,  who  set  on  foot  the  expe 
dition  of  Lieutenant  Zebulon  M.  Pike,  the  discoverer  of  Pike's  Peak,  and 
the  explorer  of  the  upper  waters  of  the  Mississippi. 

During  the  session  of  the  Congress  of  1804  a  republican  caucus  was 
held  to  nominate  candidates  for  President  and  Vice  President.  Aaron  Burr, 
who  had  served  the  term  with  Jefferson,  had  lost  the  confidence  of  the  party 
that  elected  him,  and  was  not  to  be  thought  of  for  continuance  in  office.  The 
ticket  was  formed  with  Thomas  Jefferson  for  President,  and  George  Clinton 
for  Vice  President.  The  latter  had  been  the  revolutionary  governor  of  New 
York,  and  stood  high  with  all  classes.  The  federalist  party  put  in  nomina 
tion  Charles  C.  Pinckney,  who  had  been  their  nominee  for  the  second  place 
on  the  ticket  at  the  preceding  election,  and  Rufus  King.  An  amendment 
to  the  Constitution  had  been  adopted  some  time  previously,  providing  that 
the  President  and  Vice  President  be  separately  voted  for  to  prevent  the  order 
of  office  being  changed  in  case  of  an  election  by  the  Mouse  being  again 
required.  The  result  was  decided  in  the  electoral  college,  which  gave 
Thomas  Jefferson  one  hundred  and  sixty-two  votes  for  President,  against 
fourteen  cast  for  Charles  C.  Pinckney.  George  Clinton  was  elected  Vice 
President  by  a  like  vote.  The  federalists  had  fought  with  the  rage  of  despair, 
and  as  a  power  in  the  nation  they  were  henceforth  to  be  almost  a  nullity. 
The  second  inauguration  of  Mr.  Jefferson  as  President  took  place  March  4, 
1805,  he  being  at  the  time  in  the  sixty-second  year  of  his  age.  Some 
changes  took  place  in  the  cabinet.  Mr.  Lincoln,  the  attorney-general, 
resigned,  and  was  eventually  succeeded  by  John  Breck  en  ridge,  of  Kentucky. 


4IO  THOMAS  JEFFERSON, 


CHAPTER  VII. 

SECOND  TEEM  AS  PRESIDENT— BURR'S  CONSPIRACY. 

MANY  important  measures  were  carried  into  effect  during  the  first  year 
of  Mr.  Jefferson's  second  administration  which  it  is  not  possible  in 
this  connection  even  to  mention.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  the  war  with  Tripoli 
and  Algiers  \vas  brought  to  a  successful  issue,  not,  however,  without  the 
loss  of  many  brave  men.  Friendly  relations  were  established  with  France, 
and  England  began  to  show  signs  of  hostility,  which,  however,  did  not  cul 
minate  until  the  declaration  of  war  in  1812.  By  his  refusal  to  appoint  John 
Randolph,  of  Roanoke,  minister  to  England,  an  office  for  which  that  gentle 
man's  ungovernable  temper  and  lack  of  self-control  particularly  unfitted 
him,  Jefferson  incurred  Randolph's  future  opposition  and  undying  hatred. 
The  President's  recommendation  to  Congress  that  two  million  dollars  be 
appropriated  for  the  purpose,  if  practicable,  of  purchasing  from  Spain  the 
territory  of  Florida,  received  its  concurrence,  and  that  sum  was  voted. 
Miranda,  who  had  schemed  in  England  and  France  with  the  intent  to  invade 
the  Spanish  possessions  in  South  America,  had  failed  in  his  object  but  with 
no  interference  from  the  government  had  enlisted  the  sympathies  of  two  gen 
tlemen  of  New  York,  William  J.  Smith  and  Samuel  J.  Ogden,  who  fitted 
out  a  vessel  for  the  purpose  of  such  expedition,  which  not  proving  a  suc 
cess  Miranda  made  another  attempt  in  1812,  was  captured  and  carried  to 
Spain,  where  he  died  some  four  years  later.  Measures  were  instituted  for 
the  trial  of  Ogden  and  Smith  for  violation  of  the  neutrality  laws,  but  it 
appearing  they  had  been  given  the  tacit  countenance  of  leading  men  in  the 
government,  the  matter  was  dropped. 

In  the  autumn  of  1805  \vas  developed  the  conspiracy  of  Aaron  Burr  to 
take  forcible  possession  of  the  territory  of  Louisiana,  and  found  a  western 
empire.  He  had  lost  the  confidence  of  his  party,  was  under  indictment  in 
the  states  of  New  York  and  New  Jersey  for  murder  in  the  killing  of  Alex 
ander  Hamilton  in  a  duel,  and  was  rendered  desperate  by  failure  in  the 


SECOND    TERM    AS    PRESIDENT.  41 1 

gratification  of  his  ambition  and  by  the  loss  of  his  fortune.  He  attempted  to 
enlist  Generals  Wilkinson  and  Eaton,  Commodore  Truxton,  and  all  persons 
he  thought  had  grievances  against  the  administration,  in  the  enterprise.  Burr 
continued  his  preparations  with  all  secrecy  possible  during  1806,  and  in  Jan 
uary,  1807,  proceeded  to  Mississippi  and  encamped  with  about  one  hundred 
men  a  few  miles  above  Natchez.  The  governor  of  the  territory  made  prep 
arations  for  his  arrest,  but  he  was  allowed  his  freedom  upon  giving  recogni 
zance  to  appear  before  the  territorial  court.  The  grand  jury  called  to 
examine  the  case  found  no  evidence  of  any  overt  act  being  committed,  and 
he  was  allowed  to  go  free.  In  February  he  was  arrested  by  officers  of 
General  Wilkinson's  command,  while  attempting  to  escape  through  Ala 
bama,  lie  was  taken  to  Richmond,  where  he  arrived  March  26th ;  was 
handed  over  to  the  civil  authorities,  and  after  examination  before  Judge 
Marshall,  was  charged  with  misdemeanor;  the  charge  of  high  treason  not 
being  sustained.  Burr  was  admitted  to  bail  in  the  sum  of  ten  thousand 
dollars.  On  trial  he  was  declared  not  guilty  as  against  the  state  of  Vir 
ginia,  but  was  ordered  committed  on  the  same  charge  preferred  by  the  states 
of  Ohio.  Bail  was  fixed  at  three  thousand  dollars.  This  being  secured  he 
was  released,  but  forfeited  his  recognizance  and  fled  to  England.  He  was 
finally  ordered  to  leave  that  country,  and  afterwards  spent  some  time  in 
Sweden,  German}'  and  France,  at  times  on  the  verge  of  starvation.  Not 
until  181  I  was  he  allowed  to  leave  I 'ranee.  Finally  he  embarked  for  Amer 
ica,  but  the  vessel  was  captured  and  lie  was  taken  to  England,  where  he 
remained,  reduced  to  sore  straits,  until  March,  1812;  he  was  then  able  to 
raise  money  to  pay  his  passage  to  Boston,  where  he  arrived  in  disguise. 
Finding  the  government  ignored  him,  he  opened  a  law  office  in  Xew  York, 
making  a  bare  subsistence.  The  last  two  years  of  his  life  he  was  helpless 
from  paralysis,  and  subsisted  on  the  bounty  of  friends  until  his  death,  on 
the  1 4th  of  September.  1836. 

On  the  22d  of  June,  1807,  occurred  an  act  of  British  insolence  that 
roused  the  nation  to  the  point  of  war.  In  the  morning  of  that  day  the 
frigate  Cliesapcakc  left  her  moorings  at  Hampton  Roads,  bound  on  a  cruise 
to  the  Mediterranean.  The  British  frigate  Leopard  lifted  her  anchor  at  the 
same  time  and  stood  out  ahead  of  the  Chesapeake.  In  the  afternoon  the 
Leopard  signaled  her  wish  to  communicate  with  the  CJicsapcakc.  She 
claimed  the  right,  under  orders  of  the  vice-admiral,  to  search  the  Amer 
ican  frigate  for  deserters.  This  was  promptly  refused,  although  the  Chesa 
peake  was  not  prepared  for  action,  her  decks  being  encumbered  and  her 
munitions  unprepared.  The  Leopard  opened  fire  and  soon  disabled  the 
frigate,  which  struck  her  colors,  firing  one  gun  as  the  flag  touched  the  taf- 
frail.  Four  sailors  were  taken  from  the  crew,  one  of  whom  was  afterwards 
hanged  and  the  remainder  pressed  into  British  service.  When  information  of 
this  outrage  was  received,  resolutions  were  passed  in  many  seaports  to  hold 


JI2  THOMAS   JEFFERSON. 

no  further  intercourse  with  British  vessels  until  some  action  should  be  taken 
by  the  government.  Public  indignation  was  aroused  from  end  to  end  of 
the  country,  and  demand  made  for  an  immediate  declaration  of  war.  Pres 
ident  Jefferson  dispatched  to  England  a  vessel,  bearing  instructions  to  our 
minister  to  demand  reparation  for  the  insult  we  had  received.  On  the  2d 
of  July  he  issued  a  proclamation  forbidding  British  vessels  entrance  to  any 
harbor  of  the  United  States  unless  in  distress  or  bearing  dispatches.  Prep 
arations  for  defense  were  made  at  New  York,  Charleston,  and  New  Orleans. 
British  ships  in  the  Chesapeake  were  cut  off  from  all  communication  with 
the  shore.  Commodore  Decatur  was  ordered  to  attack  the  British  fleet, 
should  they  attempt  to  enter  the  Elizabeth  river,  and  Commodore  Rodgers 
received  similar  orders  at  New  York.  In  the  late  autumn  an  embargo  act 
was  passed  in  the  Senate,  prohibiting  the  sailing  of  any  vessel  from  any 
port  of  the  United  States,  for  any  foreign  port,  except  such  vessels  as  were 
already  laden  ;  and  that  coasting  vessels  be  required  to  give  bond  that  they 
would  trade  only  with  ports  in  the  United  States.  This  measure  met  with 
determined  opposition  from  the  federalists,  who  claimed  it  was  done  in  the 
interest  of  France  in  her  war  with  England.  On  the  I3th  of  January,  1808, 
Mr.  Rose,  a  special  minister  from  the  British  government,  to  adjust  the  dif 
ficulties  arising  from  the  C/icsapcakc  and  Leopard  affair,  arrived  in  Wash 
ington.  His  proposals  were  such  as  could  not  be  entertained  by  this 
country,  and  he  returned  during  the  latter  part  of  March.  The  legislatures 
of  eleven  states  and  territories  endorsed  the  embargo  act,  as  did  many 
political  organizations  and  religious  bodies.  The  act  remained  in  force  until 
the  1st  of  March,  1809,  when  it  was  repealed.  General  measures  were 
taken  for  defense,  provision  was  made  for  raising  an  army,  and  the  naval 
forces  were  strengthened.  The  wrar  feeling  gradually  increased,  until  it  was 
finally  gratified  by  the  beginning  of  hostilities  in  the  war  of  1812. 

Much  difficulty  being  experienced  in  the  northern  part  of  the  coun 
try  in  enforcing  the  embargo  act,  particularly  in  intercourse  with  Can 
ada,  an  enforcement  act  was  passed  December  22,  1807.  Mr.  Quincy, 
of  Massachusetts,  a  prominent  federalist,  called  in  question  certain  acts  of 
the  President  in  continuing  in  office  persons  wrho  had  resigned  or  declined 
to  serve  in  the  enforcement  of  the  embargo.  In  a  note  in  his  Life  of 
Thomas  Jefferson,  Mr.  Randolph  gives  full  particulars  of  Mr.  Quincy's  efforts 
to  impeach  the  President.  He  says:  "On  the  26th  of  January,  Mr. 
Quincy  had  risen  'to  perform  a  great  duty.'  It  was  a  'painful  '  duty,  but 
the  occasion  called  for  it ! '  Every  member  c  who  had  reason  to  believe  a 
high  crime  or  misdemeanor  had  been  committed,  was  bound  to  state  that 
opinion  to  the  House,  and  move  such  an  inquiry  as  the  nature  of  the  sup 
posed  offense  demanded.'  He  then  stated  that  'Benjamin  Lincoln,  Esq.,' 
collector  of  the  port  of  Boston,  offered  his  resignation  to  the  President  at 
the  end  of  1806,  and  again  in  1807  ;  assigning  at  both  times  his  utter  inabil- 


SECOND    TF.RM    AS    PRESIDENT.  4.13 

ity  from  age  and  infirmity  to  perform  the  duties  of  the  office  ;  that  on  the 
first  occasion  the  President  promised  to  appoint  a  successor,  and  on  the 
second  made  no  answer  ;  that  consequently  the  incumbent  held  the  place  a 
year  longer  ;  that  the  office  had  been  '  thus  kept  in  effect  vacant  for  more 
than  two  years,'  to  reserve  it  for  'a  favorite  of  the  Executive,  Henry  Dear- 
1)  >rn,  secretary  of  war.1  As  a  pieliminary  to  impeachment,  he  offered  two 
resolutions,  asking  the  President  to  lay  his  correspondence  with  Mr.  Lincoln 
before  the  House,  and  to  appoint  a  committee  to  inquire  into  the  facts. 
The  House  by  a  vote  of  ninety-three  to  twenty-four  agreed  to  consider  the 
resolutions.  Mr.  Ouincy  made  a  speech.  He  thought  it  a  high  offense  that 
the  United  States  had  been  kept  paying  an  individual  five  thousand  dollars 
against  his  own  wishes. 

"This  'Benjamin  Lincoln,  Ksq.,'  was  one  of  the  oldest,  if  not  the 
oldest,  surviving  major-general  of  the  revolutionary  arm}*.  He  had  been 
appointed  to  the  command  of  the  southern  department  in  1/78;  had  com 
manded  at  the  fall  of  Charleston  ;  had  led  the  central  division  at  Vorktown  ; 
had  served  as  secretary  of  war,  and  had  subsequently  held  several  civic  and 
diplomatic  appointments.  He  had  always  been  a  decided  federalist;  and 
had  been  made  collector  of  Boston  in  17^9,  after  being  defeated  fora  re-elec 
tion  as  lieutenant-governor  by  Samuel  Adams.  He  never  had  actual!}' sent 
in  his  resignation,  until  after  the  passage  of  the  enforcing  law.  The  cruelty 
and  criminality  of  retaining  him  two  years  longer  in  a  lucrative  office  of 
which  he  could  perform  the  duties  by  deputy — and  doing  this  for  such  a  pur 
pose,  when  any  number  of  young  and  well-qualified  republicans  could  have 
been  found  willing  to  take  the  place,  though  but  for  that  short  period — gave 
great  diversion  to  many  of  the  members.  Others  possessing  less  humor, 
treated  Mr.  Ouincy  and  his  proposed  impeachment  with  anything  but 
sportiveness.  At  length  the  important  vote  drew  on.  The  yeas  and  nays 
were  called  on  the  resolutions.  The  yeas  stood  one  (Mr.  Ouincy) — the  nays 
one  hundred  and  seventeen." 

The  close  of  Jefferson's  second  term  was  approaching.  During  the 
session  of  Congress  in  the  winter  of  iSoS,  January  191!],  a  caucus  was  called 
for  the  nomination  of  candidates  to  be  voted  for  at  the  fall  election.  The 
legislatures  of  Massachusetts,  Vermont,  Rhode  Island,  New  York,  Pennsyl 
vania,  Maryland,  New  Jersey,  and  North  Carolina  had  solicited  Mr.  Jeffer 
son's  continuance  in  office.  To  each  he  made  the  same  reply,  expressing 
the  opinion  that  no  person  should  occupy  the  President's  chair  longer  than 
two  terms.  His  answer  is  well  worth  preserving  in  these  pages: 

"That  I  should  lay  clown  my  charge  at  a  proper  period,  is  as  much  a 
duty  as  to  have  borne  it  faithfully.  If  some  termination  to  the  services  of 
the  chief  magistrate  be  not  fixed  by  the  constitution,  or  supplied  by  prac 
tice,  his  office,  nominally  for  years,  will,  in  fact,  become  for  life;  and  his 
tory  shows  how  easily  that  degenerates  into  an  inheritance.  Believing  that 


4 14  THOMAS   JEFFERSON. 

a  representative  government,  responsible  at  short  periods  ot  election,  is 
that  which  produces  the  greatest  sum  of  happiness  to  mankind,  I  feel  it  a 
duty  to  do  no  act  which  shall  essentially  impair  that  principle;  and  I  should 
unwillingly  be  the  person  who,  disregarding  the  sound  precedent  set  by  an 
illustrious  predecessor,  should  furnish  the  first  example  of  prolongation 
beyond  the  second  term  of  office.  Truth,  also,  requires  me  to  add,  that  I 
am  sensible  of  that  decline  which  advancing  years  bring  on ;  and  feeling 
their  physical,  I  ought  not  to  doubt  their  mental  effect.  Happy  if  I  am 
the  first  to  perceive  and  to  obey  this  admonition  of  nature,  and  to  solicit  a 
retreat  from  cares  too  great  for  the  wearied  faculties  of  age." 

There  were  two  strong  candidates  before  the  caucus,  both  warm  per 
sonal  and  political  friends  of  Mr.  Jefferson — James  Madison  and  James 
Monroe.  Both  were  well  fitted  by  education  and  attainments  for  the 
responsible  office;  but  Monroe's  time  had  not  yet  come.  It  was  a  pre 
determined  fact  that  he  would  not  receive  a  majority  of  the  votes  in  caucus, 
and  many  of  his  friends  purposely  remained  away.  James  Madison  received 
eighty-three  votes  for  President;  George  Clinton  three,  and  Monroe  three. 
For  Vice-President  George  Clinton  received  seventy-nine  votes,  John  Lang- 
don  five,  General  Dearborn  three,  and  John  Ouincy  Adams  one.  The  fed 
eralists  put  in  nomination  for  President  Charles  C.  Pinckney  ;  for  Vice-Pres 
ident  Rufus  King.  Considerable  latent  opposition  to  the  embargo  act  had 
strengthened  that  party,  and  it  worked  with  energy.  The  republican  party 
was  divided  against  itself,  though  two  of  its  candidates  ostensibly  withdrew 
from  the  caucus.  The  result  was,  Mr.  Pinckney  and  Mr.  King  each 
received  forty-seven  votes  in  the  electoral  college.  The  republicans  elected 
James  Madison  President,  by  one  hundred  and  twenty-two  votes  ;  and 
George  Clinton  Vice-President,  by  one  hundred  and  thirteen  votes. 

Addresses  of  confidence  and  acknowledgment  of  the  debt  of  gratitude 
the  country  owed  its  retiring  President,  poured  in  upon  Mr.  Jefferson.  They 
came  from  legislatures,  conventions — state,  county,  and  town, — from  polit 
ical,  ecclesiastical,  military,  and  other  associations.  They  were  such  as 
must  have  touched  the  heart  of  the  pure  and  patriotic  man,  who  had 
through  life  preferred  his  country's  good  to  his  own  immediate  advantage. 
In  June,  1808,  months  before  .the  election,  General  Armstrong  wrote  the 
President,  from  France,  strongly  advising  the  immediate  occupation  of 
Florida,  This  called  from  Mr.  Jefferson  the  enunciation  of  the  sentiment 
which  was  the  germ  of  the  Monroe  doctrine.  He  wrote  the  governor  of 
Louisiana,  under  date  of  October  28th,  1808  :  "The  patriots  of  Spain  have 
no  warmer  friends  than  the  administration  of  the  United  States,  but  it  is 
our  duty  to  say  nothing  and  to  do  nothing  for  or  against  either.  If  they 
succeed,  we  shall  be  well  satisfied  to  see  Cuba  and  Mexico  remain  in  their 
present  dependence  ;  but  very  unwilling  to  see  them  in  that  of  either  France 
or  England,  politically  or  commercially.  We  consider  their  interests  and 


SECOND    TERM    AS    PRESIDENT.  415 

ours  as  the  same,  and  that  the  object  of  both  must  be  to  exclude  all 
European  influence  from  this  hemisphere.  We  wish  to  avoid  the  necessity 
of  going  to  war,  till  our  revenue  shall  be  entirely  liberated  from  debt 
Then  it  will  suffice  for  war  without  creating  new  debt  or  taxes." 

The  administration  of  Thomas  Jefferson  closed  March  4,  1809.  On 
the  same  day  he  witnessed  the  inauguration  of  his  successor,  James 
Madron.  Soon  afterward  he  retired  to  the  quiet  and  peaceful  home  life  he 
had  so  long  desired,  from  which  neither  party  turmoils  nor  necessity  ever 
recalled  him. 

Near  the  close  of  President  Madison's  first  term,  a  faction  in  the  repub 
lican  party  became  dissatisfied  with  the  conduct  of  the  war,  and  in  consult 
ing  upon  an  available  successor,  who  would  prosecute  hostilities  to  a  speedy 
termination,  agreed  upon  Mr.  Jefferson.  He  was  approached  upon  the  sub 
ject,  but  adhered  to  his  original  idea  as  to  the  term  of  service  of  any  Presi 
dent.  The  results  to  be  apprehended,  should  no  restraint  be  put  upon 
ambition,  he  feared  would  prove  disastrous  to  a  republican  form  of  govern 
ment.  He  cordially  commended  Mr.  Madison  to  the  undivided  support  of 
his  part}',  and  expressed  confidence  in  his  ability  and  good  judgment  in  direct 
ing  affairs  to  a  successful  issue.  A  little  later  another  proposition  was  made 
him, — that  he  become  secretary  of  state  in  the  cabinet  of  Mr.  Madison,  in 
place  of  Mr.  Monroe,  who  would  then  succeed  Mr.  Kustis  in  the  war 
department.  In  a  letter  to  Colonel  Duane,  dated  October  1st,  he  gave 
reasons  why  he  could  not  serve  the  country  in  any  capacity.  He  said  "he 
possessed  so  much  of  the  Roman  principle,  as  to  deem  it  honorable  for 
the  general  of  yesterday  to  act  as  corporal  to-day,  if  his  services  could  be 
useful  to  his  country;  holding  that  to  be  false  pride  which  postponed  the 
public  good  to  any  private  or  personal  considerations.  .  .  The  hand 

of  age  was  upon  him,  and  the  decay  of  bodily  faculties  apprised  him  that 
those  of  the  mind  could  not  bo  unimpaired,  had  he  not  better  proofs." 
Mr.  Madison  himself  followed  this  proposal  with  another  to  the  same  effect, 
but  Mr.  Jefferson  could  not  be  induced  again  to  enter  public  life. 

Albemarle  academy  was  established  at  Charlottesville  in  1803,  and  lea 
a  precarious  existence  until  1814,  when  an  effort  was  made  to  revive  it.  Mr. 
Jefferson  was  invited  to  assist  in  its  reorganization,  and  proposed  its  incor 
poration  as  a  college.  The  central  counties  of  Virginia  entered  heartily  into 
the  proposal,  and  raised  the  sum  of  sixty  thousand  dollars  to  forward  the 
work.  A  board  of  visitors  was  appointed,  consisting  of  Mr.  Jefferson,  Mr. 
Madison,  Mr.  Monroe,  and  several  other  distinguished  gentlemen.  They 
were  clothed  with  power  to  erect  necessary  buildings,  and  in  February, 
1816,  the  institution  was  incorporated  as  Central  college.  The  college,  sup 
ported  and  strengthened  by  the  names  and  influence  of  its  president  visitors, 
rapidh'  grew  in  popularity.  It  was  then  that  Mr.  Jefferson  renewed  his 
suggestion  of  a.  comprehensive  plan  of  education.  A  few  clays  after  its 


41 6  THOMAS    JEFFERSON. 

incorporation  the  directors  of  the  college  were  instructed  by  the  legislature 
of  the  state  to  report  upon  a  system  for  a  university,  and  such  colleges, 
academies,  and  schools  as  were  advisable  to  secure  a  general  course  of  edu 
cation  for  the  people  of  the  state.  The  ensuing  year  a  bill  was  passed 
appropriating  the  sum  of  forty-five  thousand  dollars  annually  for  the  sup 
port  of  an  university,  to  be  called  the  University  of  Virginia,  which  soon 
absorbed  the  Central  college,  and  wras  located  on  its  site.  In  January,  1819, 
the  law  was  passed  organizing  the  university,  but  the  institution  was  not  in 
perfect  operation  until  1825.  During  these  six  years  Mr.  Jefferson  had 
much  of  the  care  of  the  erection  of  buildings  for  its  use.  To  this  enter 
prise  he  devoted  himself  with  unwearied  assiduity,  and  upon  his  own 
shoulders  bore  the  burden  of  its  supervision.  The  inception  of  the  uni 
versity  was  due  to  him.  He  subscribed  one  thousand  dollars  to  the  cause, 
and  through  his  personal  influence  secured  the  names  of  nine  other  gentle 
men  who  subscribed  like  sums — George  Divers,  John  Harris,  Reuben 
Lindsay,  Sr. ,  James  Monroe,  Wilson  C.  Nicholas,  and  John  Patterson,  of 
Albemane  ;  John  H.  Cocke,  of  Fluvana ;  Joseph  C.  Cabell,  of  Nelson,  and 
James  Madison,  of  Orange.  In  February,  1819,  the  first  board  of  visitors 
of  the  University  of  Virginia  was  chosen.  It  consisted  of  Thomas  Jefferson, 
James  Madison,  Chapman  Johnson,  James  Breckenridge,  Robert  B.  Taylor, 
John  H.  Cocke,  and  Joseph  C.  Cabell.  The  board  elected  Mr.  Jefferson 
rector  of  the  university,  which  office  he  held  until  the  close  of  his  life. 

In  the  selection  ot  professors  for  the  university  Mr.  Jefferson  was 
guided  solely  by  fitness.  He  was  much  censured  for  his  preference  for 
educated  men  from  foreign  countries,  those  condemning  him  being  of  the 
opinion  that  suitably  educated  men  could  be  found  in  the  United  States. 
The  appointment  of  Dr.  Cooper,  a  reputed  Unitarian,  to  a  professorship, 
called  down  on  Mr.  Jefferson  the  opposition  of  the  clergy  of  the  state,  who 
believed  the  doctor  unorthodox,  and  unfit  for  service  in  the  University  of 
Virginia.  The  legislature  took  up  the  matter,  and,  contrary  to  his  wishes, 
Mr.  Jefferson  was  induced  to  cancel  the  engagement  with  Dr.  Cooper.  It 
is  unlikely  that  Mr.  Jefferson  was  influenced  in  the  remotest  degree  by  the 
religious  opinions  of  any  of  the  gentlemen  called  to  take  professorships  in 
the  university.  His  appointment  of  Dr.  Robert  Dunglison,  George  Tucker, 
Mr.  Long,  Mr.  Bonnycastle,  Mr.  Key,  and  Dr.  Emmet,  who  were  Episco 
palians  ;  and  of  Dr.  Blaetterman,  a  Lutheran,  sufficiently  refutes  the  idea 
that  religion  or  non-religion  had  any  influence. 

Much  of  the  time  during  the  erection  of  the  university  buildings,  Mr. 
Jefferson  was  suffering  from  debility  and  exhaustion,  but  when  the  \veather 
was  favorable,  he  daily  rode  to  the  town  of  Charlottesville,  a  distance  going 
and  returning  of  eight  miles.  He  placed  a  telescope  on  one  of  the  terraces 
near  his  house,  and  when  the  weather  or  his  state  of  health  forbade  riding  to 
the  town,  took  frequent  observations  of  the  progress  of  the  work.  In  the 


FOUNDS    THE    UNIVERSITY    OF    VIRGINIA.  4 17 

construction  of  the  buildings  he  sacrificed  much  of  utility  to  arcnitectural 
symmetry.  Everything  was  conformed  to  his  studied  regard  for  the  princi 
ples  of  architectural  design,  and  the  result  was  a  magnificent  pile.  The 
buildings  were  erected  on  three  sides  of  a  square,  two  sides  being  devoted 
to  houses  for  the  professors  and  apartments  for  the  students,  the  other  to 
the  rotunda  and  structures  for  the  general  uses  of  the  college. 

The  attendance  upon  the  university  gradually  increased,  until,  at  the 
breaking  out  of  the  war  of  the  rebellion,  it  averaged  six  hundred  and  fifty. 
During  the  war  it  was  still  kept  open,  and  only  once  did  the  sound  of  com 
bat  approach  it.  In  March,  1865,  General  Sheridan  occupied  the  town  with 
a  body  of  cavalry,  and  placed  a  guard  over  the  property  for  its  preservation, 
Soon  after  the  war  the  cause  of  education  received  a  stimulus,  and  the  num 
ber  of  students  reached  five  hundred,  but  in  1872  had  declined  to  throe 
hundred  and  sixty-five.  Since  that  time  a  larger  endowment  has  been 
made,  and  the  university  is  now  in  a  flourishing  condition. 


THOMAS   JEFFERSON. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

MARRIAGE-FAMILY-HOME  AT  MONTICELLO 

WHILE  yet  a  student  of  law  in  Williamsburg,  and  not  arrived  at  man 
hood's  estate,  Mr.  Jefferson  was  first  smitten  by  the  blind  god  of 
love.  He  formed  an  attachment  for  Miss  Rebecca  Burwell,  a  famed  beauty 
of  the  town,  but  his  dreams  were  rudely  broken  by  her  sudden  marriage 
to  another.  The  obscuring  of  his  bright  visions  caused  more  intense  appli 
cation  to  his  books.  During  the  years  of  study  preceding  and  following 
this  episode,  were  laid  the  foundations  of  that  broad  and  liberal  culture  that 
in  after  life  so  distinguished  the  man.  His  thirst  for  knowledge  was  insa 
tiable  ;  in  conversation  he  led  the  way  to  the  subject  with  which  his  com 
panion  was  most  familiar,  and  by  skilful  questions  and  adroit  reference 
obtained  information  to  be  treasured  and  retained  for  future  use.  Following 
this  course  he  became  well  versed  in  almost  every  subject  ;  could  discuss 
mechanics  with  an  engineer,  medicine  with  a  physician,  law  with  a  lawyer, 
religion  with  a  clergyman,  with  a  definiteness  and  comprehension  that  led 
each  to  believe  him  a  member  of  the  same  profession.  Perhaps  no  man 
was  more  strongly  attached  to  home,  or  took  greater  delight  in  the  society 
of  friends.  Between  himself  and  his  elder  sister,  Jane,  there  was  much 
in  common.  Both  were  possessed  of  intellectual  abilities  far  above  the 
common,  and  each  found  in  the  other's  society  mental  stimulus.  Both  were 
devoted  to  music,  and  spent  many  evenings  in  the  singing  of  hymns.  The 
death  of  the  sister,  in  the  fall  of  1/65,  at  the  age  of  twenty-eight,  fell  heavily 
upon  Jefferson,  who  ever  cherished  her  memory,  frequently  in  after  life 
speaking  to  his  grand-children  with  affection,  of  her  early  influence  in  the 
formation  of  his  character. 

His  second  affair  of  the  heart  resulted  far  differently  from  the  first. 
He  made  the  acquaintance  of  Mrs.  Martha  Skelton,  the  young  widow  of 
Bathurst  Skelton,  and  daughter  of  John  \Yayles,  a  lawyer  of  extensive 
practice  but  of  ordinary  abilities.  Mrs.  Skelton  was  but  twenty-three  years 


MARRIAGE FAMILY HOME    AT    MOXTICELLO.  419 

of  age,  beautiful  in  character  as  she  was  in  personal  appearance,  surrounded 
by  suitors  for  her  hand  and  her  not  inconsiderable  fortune.  With  a  culti 
vated  talent  for  music,  her  charms  were  irresistible  to  Jefferson,  and  she  was 
no  less  attracted  by  the  noble  manhood  of  her  suitor,  coupled  with  his 
intellectual  attainments.  Their  marriage  took  place  January  I,  17/2,  and 
after  the  festivities  that  followed,  the  young  couple  set  out  upon  the  long 
and  tedious  journey  to  Monticello. 

Less  than  a  year  after  marriage  their  eldest  daughter,  Martha,  was  born, 
and  two  years  later  Jane,  who  died  when  eighteen  months  of  age.  Then 
followed  four  others,  of  whom  Maria  only  survived.  The  health  of  Mrs. 
Jefferson  had  been  visibly  declining  previous  to  the  birth  of  her  last  child, 
and  caused  Mr.  Jefferson  much  anxiety.  This  it  was  that  prevented  his 
acceptance  of  a  mission  to  France  in  the  early  part  of  the  war  of  the  revo 
lution.  Mrs.  Jefferson  died  September  6",  1782,  leaving  three  children,  one 
an  infant,  to  the  care  of  her  husband.  Mr.  Jefferson  was  prostrated  with 
grief,  and  it  was  weeks  before  he  regained  his  self-control.  Two  years  later, 
during  his  absence  in  Kuropc,  occurred  the  death  of  his  infant  child,  Lucy, 
After  the  death  of  his  wife  he  devoted  much  care  and  attention  to  the  edu 
cation  of  his  daughters,  with  whom  he  constantly  corresponded  during  his 
frequent  absences  from  home.  These  letters  are  filled  with  fatherly  solici 
tude  and  love,  and  were  written  to  encourage  them  in  stud)'  and  improve 
ment.  When  at  home  he  made  them  his  daily  companions,  and  while 
entering  into  their  childish  joys  and  sorrows,  led  them  to  habits  of  thought 
that  tended  to  the  development  of  their  mental  capacities,  and  the  acquire 
ment  of  knowledge  that  proved  a  source  of  enjoyment  during  life. 

In  the  fall  of  1780  Mr.  Jefferson  returned  from  his  mission  to  France, 
and  was  called  to  President  Washington's  cabinet.  lie  spent  a  few  weeks  at 
Monticello,  and  while  there  had  the  pleasure  to  see  his  eldest  daughter, 
Martha,  married  to  Thomas  Mann  Randolph,  a  son  of  Randolph  of  Tucka- 
hoe,  and  a  young  man  of  ability,  possessed  of  an  exceptionally  good  educa 
tion,  obtained  at  the  University  of  Kdinburg.  lie  was  a  man  of  wealth, 
fine  figure  and  commanding  appearance,  and  afterward  served  in  the  legis 
lature  and  as  governor  of  the  state.  Maria  Jefferson  was  married  on  the 
1 3th  of  October,  1707,  to  John  \Yayles  Kppes,  her  second  cousin.  She 
became  the  mother  of  several  children,  and  died  April  17,  1804.  Her  death 
was  a  severe  affliction  to  her  father. 

In  his  habits  Mr.  Jefferson  was  methodical.  He  was  always  an  early 
riser,  and  seldom,  indeed,  was  any  one  who  called  to  see  him  on  business 
obliged  to  await  his  coming.  In  his  connection  of  nearly  twenty  years  as 
overseer,  Captain  Kdmund  Bacon  says  he  but  twice  saw  him  idle  in  his 
room,  and  on  both  these  occasions  he  was  suffering  from  illness.  He 
was  a  close  and  indefatigable  student.  Seldom  was  he  without  a  book  or 
pen  in  his  hand  when  in  his  room.  His  daughter,  Mrs.  Randolph,  was  very 


THOMAS   JEFFERSON. 

like  him.  These  two  would  sit  for  hours,  he  engaged  in  reading  and 
study;  she  at  her  work.  In  temper  he  was  quiet  and  evenly  balanced. 
A  careful  watch  was  always  kept  over  himself,  and  when  anything  went 
amiss  it  was  taken  as  a  matter  that  was  unavoidable  and  not  worth  worrying 
over.  His  domestic  relations  were  particularly  pleasant.  The  early  death 
of  his  wife,  whom  he  almost  idolized,  was  a  great  shock  to  him.  On  her 
death-bed  she  was  much  disquieted  over  the  thought  that  another  might 
take  her  place  who  would  not  be  a  mother  to  her  children.  Mr.  Jefferson 
clasped  her  hand  in  his  own,  and  solemnly  promised  never  again  to  marry. 
This  promise  he  sacredly  kept,  though  he  might  at  any  time  have  married 
well. 

The  home  at  Shad  well  was  destroyed  by  fire  February  i,  1770,  his  small 
but  cherished  library  being  consumed  at  the  time,  the  servants  setting  greater 
value  on  his  fiddle,  which  was  carefully  preserved.  Although  much  inter 
ested  in  music,  his  books  were  treasures  he  could  ill  spare,  and  no  time  was 
lost  in  replacing  them.  Some  time  previously  he  had  begun  building  at 
Monticello,  and  fortunately  the  house  was  in  condition  for  occupancy  at  the 
time  Shadwell  was  burned. 

Monticello,  the  home  of  Thomas  Jefferson,  is  situated  on  the  summit  of 
a  little  mountain,  forming  part  of  the  southwest  range  of  the  Alleghanies, 
and  commands  an  extensive  view  of  the  country,  except  to  the  northeast 
and  southwest,  this  being  the  direction  of  the  range.  Twenty  miles 
distant  to  the  south  is  seen  the  Blue  ridge,  the  course  being  visible  many 
miles  to  the  northeast,  until  it  seems  to  terminate  in  the  distance.  The 
mountain  on  which  is  situated  the  residence,  is  in  the  form  of  a  sugar- 
loaf.  A  road  winds  around  its  side  to  the  summit.  On  the  very  top 
the  forest  trees  were  removed,  and  ten  acres  of  ground  leveled,  the  re 
mainder  being  left  in  its  rugged  state,  except  on  the  south,  where  a  spot 
was  cleared  for  a  kitchen  garden.  The  house  is  a  long  building  of  moderate 
height,  with  a  Grecian  portico  in  front  and  an  octagonal  tower.  The  prep 
aration  of  ground  for  a  garden  was  attended  with  much  labor.  It  was 
arranged  in  terraces,  the  rock  being  blasted  for  the  walls,  and  then  covered 
with  soil.  In  this  garden  were  grown  many  and  choice  varieties  of  vege 
tables  and  fruit.  Mr.  Jefferson  took  much  pride  in  his  farm  and  garden. 
While  in  Washington,  each  season  he  procured  plants,  cuttings,  and  seeds 
from  the  greenhouse  of  Mr.  Maine,  besides  receiving  many  from  foreign 
countries.  Professor  Tucker,  in  his  Life  of  Jefferson,  says:  "The  entrance 
from  the  portico  was  into  a  saloon  decorated  on  either  side  writh  horns  of 
elk,  moose,  and  deer,  Mexican  antiquities,  Indian  dresses,  weapons,  and 
ornaments,  together  with  three  or  four  pieces  of  statuary.  At  the  farther 
end  of  this  hall  were  glass  folding  doors,  which  opened  into  an  octagonal 
drawing-room,  and  through  the  windows  at  the  farther  or  west  end  was 
seen  a  lawn  of  about  two  acres,  skirtcu  with  forest  trees,  both  native  and 


MARRIAGE FAMILY HOME    AT    MONTICELLO.  421 

exotic.  It  had  a  neat  parquet  floor,  the  work  of  slaves,  and  the  walls  were 
covered  with  paintings,  a  great  proportion  of  which  were  portraits  of  eminent 
statesmen  and  philosophers.  To  the  right  were  the  dining-room  and  other 
apartments;  to  the  left  a  suite  of  rooms  appropriated  to  his  own  use.  These 
consisted  of  a  library,  bed-room,  dressing-room,  and  a  small  apartment  con 
taining  a  work  bench,  and  a  large  assortment  of  tools,  where  he  used  to 
seek  exercise  for  his  body  and  recreation  for  his  mind.  In  his  library  one 
saw  in  every  direction  philosophical  and  mathematical  instruments,  miner- 
alogical  specimens,  and  the  like,  which  indicated  the  varied  intellectual  tastes 
and  pursuits  of  the  proprietor." 

Under  the  house  and  terraces  were  the  cisterns,  cellar,  kitchen,  ice 
houses,  and  rooms  for  other  purposes.  The  servants'  rooms  were  on  one 
side.  No  slave  quarters  were  placed  in  the  rear  of  the  mansion,  as  was 
usually  the  case  on  such  plantations.  Everything  was  arranged  with  the 
same  system  as  that  employed  in  his  house,  and  in  his  political  and  other 
pursuits.  The  surroundings  of  Monticello  were  in  keeping  with  the  tastes 
of  its  master,  nothing  incongruous  or  out  of  place. 


422  THOMAS   JEFFERSON. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

HIS  VIEWS  ON  SLAVERY— PECUNIARY  TROUBLES— ILLNESS  AND  DEATH. 

IN  the  President's  message,  on  the  assembling  of  Congress,  the  ist  of 
December,  1806,  he  called  attention  to  the  clause  in  the  Constitution  rela 
tive  to  the  slave  trade,  which  provided  that  no  prohibitory  measures  should  go 
into  effect  previous  to  1808.  He  recommended  that  action  be  taken  looking 
to  the  prohibition  of  the  slave  trade  to  American  citizens,  although  the  time 
to  elapse  before  such  law  could  take  effect  would  be  two  years,  and  sug 
gested  that  early  action  would  prevent  the  organization  of  expeditions  for 
the  capture  of  slaves  just  previous  to  the  expiration  of  the  constitutional 
limitation. 

Abstractly,  and  in  its  moral  effect  on  the  country  at  large,  he  believed 
slavery  was  an  evil.  The  system  had  been  forced  on  the  colonies  while 
they  were  yet  weak,  and  the  need  of  labor  was  pressing  in  every  branch  of 
industry.  The  people  had  become  accustomed  to  the  institution,  and  its 
abolishment  would  in  great  measure  curtail  the  comforts  of  life.  They  had 
come  to  believe  that  the  same  right  of  ownership  existed  in  human  beings 
as  in  the  lower  animals,  and  they  were  regarded  as  so  much  stock  capable 
of  adding  to  ease  and  wealth.  England  had  early  refused  to  restrict  the 
slave  trade,  which  had  brought  fortunes  to  many  of  her  subjects,  and  when 
the  colonies  had  gained  their  independence,  the  constitution  that  was 
adopted  prevented  any  interference  with  the  traffic  until  the  year  1808.  Mr. 
Jefferson  was  opposed  to  slavery  on  all  grounds,  and  desired  its  abolition. 
In  his  early  life,  soon  after  he  entered  the  legislature  of  Virginia,  he  intro 
duced  a  resolution  providing  for  the  emancipation  of  slaves.  Most  of  his 
associates  were  owners  of  human  chattels,  and  were  not  possessed  of  his 
belief  in  the  equal  rights  of  man,  and  as  a  natural  consequence  the  resolu 
tion  was  lost.  Notwithstanding  this,  he  asserted  that  the  time  would  yet 
come  when  slavery  would  cease  to  exist ;  it  might  be  after  many  years,  and 
it  might  be  through  great  convulsions.  Gradual  emancipation  was  the 


HIS   VIEWS   ON   SLAVERY.  423 

course  he  thought  advisable;  emancipation  of  all  persons  born  in  slavery 
after  a  certain  date.  This  to  be  followed  by  a  certain  degree  of  education, 
which  being  attained,  the  freedmen  should  be  colonized,  not  in  this  country,, 
but  where  they  would  not  come  into  association  or  conflict  with  Americans. 
He  believed  the  two  races  could  never  live  in  peace  under  the  same  govern 
ment.  The  island  of  St.  Domingo  he  thought  a  suitable  place  for  their 
colonization,  as  in  that  island  were  many  of  their  own  color;  this  being 
inexpedient,  he  favored  Liberia  in  preference  to  any  portion  of  the  South 
American  continent,  where  they  would  be  brought  into  closer  relationship 
with  us.  He  was  opposed  to  the  agitation  of  the  slave  question  in  other 
than  slave  states,  believing  the  people  would  see  the  evil  of  the  institution 
and  provide  for  its  ultimate  abolition  ;  that  outside  agitation  was  opposed  to 
the  spirit  and  intent  of  the  Constitution.  In  all  things  he  believed  in  the 
sovereignty  of  individual  states,  and  that  to  each  belonged  the"regulation  of 
all  internal  matters.  When  the  ordinance  of  1794  was  adopted,  he  caused 
the  insertion  of  a  section  prohibiting  the  holding  of  slaves  in  the  Northwest 
Territory,  then,  or  at  any  time  in  the  future.  His  reasons  for  this,  given 
afterward,  were  that  to  recognize  slaves  as  property  in  the  territory  north 
west  of  the  Ohio,  would  result  in  an  immense  increase  in  the  African  slave 
trade,  which  was  not  yet  prohibited,  thus  increasing  the  aggregate  number 
of  slaves  in  the  United  States. 

The  Missouri  Compromise  met  his  unqualified  disapproval.  How 
almost  prophetic  of  the  conflict  that  was  to  begin  between  the  North  and 
South  in  1861,  was  his  letter  to  William  Short,  under  date  April  13,  1820: 
"But  the  coincidence  of  a  marked  principle,  moral  and  political,  with 
a  geographical  line,  once  conceived,  I  feared  would  never  more  be 
obliterated  from  the  mind  ;  that  it  would  be  recurring  on  every  occasion 
and  renewing  irritations,  until  it  would  kindle  such  mutual  and  mortal 
hatred,  as  to  render  separation  preferable  to  eternal  discord.  I  have  been 
among  the  most  sanguine  in  believing  that  our  union  would  be  of  long 
duration.  I  now  doubt  it  much,  and  see  the  event  at  no  great  distance,  and 
the  direct  consequence  01  this  question  ;  not  by  the  line  which  has  been  so 
confidenty  counted  on — the  laws  of  nature  control  this — but  by  the  Poto 
mac,  Ohio,  Missouri,  or  more  probably  the  Mississippi  upwards  to  our 
northern  boundary."  It  would  appear  that  while  he  favored  the  emanci 
pation  and  expatriation  of  slaves,  even  to  him  the  path  was  not  clear ;  with 
his  close  and  careful  study  of  the  question  for  years,  he  was  no  nearer  its 
solution  than  in  the  beginning.  It  remained  for  the  solid  argument  of  war  to 
determine  the  equal  rights  of  all  men  to  freedom  and  impartial  justice. 

It  would  seem  almost  an  anomaly  that  Mr.  Jefferson,  who  had  so  early 
in  life  formed  opinions  so  decidedly  against  the  continuation  of  slavery,  and 
who  in  his  later  life  still  held  to  his  early  principles,  did  not  at  his  death 
manumit  all  slaves  held  by  him.  By  a  codicil  to  his  will  he  provided 


424  THOMAS  JEFFERSON. 

for  the  freedom  of  two  of  his  faithful  body  servants,  to  go  into  effect 
one  year  after  his  decease  ;  to  them  he  gave  the  services  of  two  others 
until  they  should  reach  the  age  of  twenty-one  years,  when  they,  too, 
should  be  free.  It  is  probable  that  the  embarrassments  under  which  he 
labored  for  several  years,  caused  him  to  harden  his  heart  and  leave  the 
remainder  of  his  slaves  the  property  of  his  daughter  and  grand-children, 
and  to  provide  for  the 'payment  of  his  debts.  Under  the  laws  of  Virginia, 
the  debts  must  needs  be  satisfied  before  any  property  could  be  reserved  by 
will,  and  slaves  being  held  as  property,  were  included  in  the  estate.  As 
the  estate  did  not  sell  for  enough  to  pay  his  debts  Svithin  forty  thousand 
dollars,  the  slaves  were  sacrificed  with  other  personal  property  and  real 
estate. 

The  life  of  Mr.  Jefferson,  after  his  retirement  from  public  service,  was 
was  that  of  a  quiet  country  gentleman.  The  greater  portion  of  each  day 
was  passed  in  superintending  affairs  connected  with  his  estate.  After 
dinner  he  conversed  with  his  friends,  and  the  evening  was  generally  occu 
pied  with  reading.  During  the  early  morning  he  was  usually  to  be 
found  in  his  study,  reading  and  writing.  His  correspondence  occupied 
much  time,  embraced  many  and  varied  subjects,  and  extended  to  many 
persons  in  foreign  countries,  besides  prominent  persons  in  his  own  country. 
Up  to  this  time  his  life  had  been  so  filled  with  political  matters,  and  subjects 
connected  with  the  growth,  development,  and  perpetuation  of  the  republic, 
as  to  forbid  any  attention  to  the  subjects  that  had  engrossed  his  mind  to  a 
great  extent  in  his  earlier  years.  He  had  been  unable  to  keep  pace  with  the 
growth  and  development  of  the  sciences  that  had  attracted  his  attention, 
and  when  at  last  he  was  relieved  from  public  duties  and  had  time  to  devote 
to  their  pursuit,  the  fascination  they  once  had  was  vanished.  He  devoted 
much  time,  however,  to  the  study  of  classic  literature.  In  his  youth  he  had 
loved  poetry,  but  in  his  later  years  his  taste  for  it  declined.  He  always 
delighted  in  the  poetry  of  Homer,  and  never  tired  of  the  Athenian  tragedies. 
He  read  the  works  of  Euripides,  Sophocles,  ^Eschuylus,  Dante,  Virgil, 
Corneille,  and  others,  in  the  original  languages.  The  reviews  of  the  day 
he  always  found  time  to  read,  especially  the  Edinburgh  Review,  and  kept 
himself  informed  of  contemporary  literature  and  events  occurring  in  the 
world  he  had  left.  His  acquaintance  with  Greek  and  Latin  literature  was 
extensive,  his  library  containing  all  the  more  important  works. 

Soon  after  his  retirement  he  engaged  in  building  a  residence  on  his 
Pjplar  Forest  estate,  in  Bedford  county,  near  the  city  of  Lynchburg, 
some  seventy  miles  distant  from  Monticello.  This  was  a  brick  building  of 
one  story  front  and,  owing  to  the  descending  nature  of  the  ground,  two  in 
the  rear,  and  was  designed  as  a  retreat  from  the  influx  of  visitors  constantly 
coming  and  going  at  Monticello.  Here  he  would  sometimes  spend  several 
weeks,  always  accompanied  by  two  or  more  of  his  grandchildren,  who 


PECUNIARY    TROUBLES.  425 

enjoyed,  as  much  as  he  himself  did,  these  excursions  and  the  quiet  that 
followed.  Here  he  enjoyed  social  intercourse  different  fiom  that  at  his  more 
pretentious  home.  At  this  place  he,  to  a  great  degree,  escaped  the  restraints 
that  the  concourse  imposed  upon  him.  He  interested  himself  in  the 
things  that  interested  his  young  companions,  took  long  walks  and  rides, 
and  occasionally  accompanied  them  to  the  not  far  distant  city,  gratifying 
their  youthful  tastes  in  the  purchase  of  small  articles  at  the  shops  and  stores, 
In  his  Poplar  Forest  home  he  had  arranged  four  book-cases,  containing  the 
library  he  had  used  in  Washington ;  the  volumes  selected  being  compact  in 
form,  the  whole  containing  what  was  almost  a  complete  library  of  classic, 
ancient,  and  modern  literature.  Life  without  books  would  have  been  an 
impossibility  to  a  man  possessed  of  his  cast  of  mind.  The  reading  and 
study  of  good  books  were  at  once  his  work,  his  pastime,  and  his  rest. 
Whatever  may  have  been  his  religious  views,  he  was  a  constant  and  diligent 
reader  of  the  Bible.  By  his  enemies  he  was  frequently  accused  of  being 
an  atheist.  His  letters  and  conversation  at  various  times  do  not  lead  to  this 
conclusion,  however.  In  a  letter  to  Dr.  Vine  Utley,  dated  at  Monticello, 
March  21,  1819,  occurs  the  following  passage:  "I  never  go  to  bed  with 
out  an  hour  or  half  an  hour's  previous  reading  of  something  moral,  whereon 
to  ruminate  in  the  intervals  of  sleep." 

At  a  date  several  years  earlier  he  gives  more  light  on  the  moral  reading 
of  this  hour  previous  to  retiring.  He  writes  to  his  revolutionary  friend, 
Charles  Thompson,  under  date  January  9,  1816:  "I,  too,  have  made  a  wee- 
little  book  from  the  same  materials  (referring  to  the  reception  by  him  of 
Mr.  Thompson's  Harmony  of  the  Four  Gospels),  which  I  call  the  Philosophy 
of  Jesus ;  it  is  a  paradigma  of  his  doctrines,  made  by  cutting  the  texts  out 
of  the  book,  and  arranging  them  on  the  pages  of  a  blank  book,  in  a  certain 
order  of  time  or  subject.  A  more  beautiful  or  precious  morsel  of  ethics  I 
have  never  seen  ;  it  is  a  document  in  proof  that  /  am  a  real  Christian,  that 
is  to  say,  a  disciple  of  the  doctrines  of  Jesus,  very  different  from  the  Platon- 
ists,  who  call  vie  infidel  and  thcmsches  Christians  and  preachers  of  the  Gos 
pel,  while  they  draw  all  their  characteristic  dogmas  from  what  its  author 
never  said,  nor  saw.  They  have  compounded  from  the  heathen  mysteries  a 
system  beyond  the  comprehension  of  man,  of  which  the  great  reformer  of 
the  vicious  ethics  and  deism  of  the  Jews,  were  he  to  return  on  earth,  would 
not  recognize  one  feature.  If  I  had  time,  I  would  add  to  my  little  book  the 
Greek,  Latin,  and  French  texts,  in  columns,  side  by  side."  It  appears  that 
he  soon  after  took  time  to  make  the  arrangement  of  texts  he  proposed, 
which  were  placed  in  a  beautiful  morocco-bound  volume,  and  labeled  on  the 
back,  Morals  of  Jesus.  In  his  collections  for  the  Indians,  designed  to  be 
incorporated  into  a  text  book,  unembarrassed,  by  questions  beyond  their 
comprehension,  he  arranged  comparative  texts  from  the  Gospels  in 
chronological  order,  from  the  birth  to  the  death  of  Christ.  It  is  believed 


42(5  THOMAS   JEFFERSON. 

this  presentation  of  the  belief  of  Mr.  Jefferson  should  forever  set  at  rest  the 
prevalent  idea  that  he  was  an  atheist,  or  an  infidel,  in  his  religious  views. 
The  original  arrangement  of  these  texts  is  at  the  present  time  in  the  pos 
session  of  the  descendants  of  Mr.  Jefferson  in  his  own  handwriting,  unless 
they  have  been  deposited  in  a  safer  place  of  keeping.  Accurate  copies  may 
be  found  in  the  Appendix  to  Randall's  Life  of  Jefferson,  obtained  by  the 
author  of  that  work,  from  the  originals. 

Soon  after  his  retirement  to  Monticello  friends,  relatives,  and  acquaint 
ances  began  their  visits,  which  were  sometimes  prolonged  to  days,  weeks, 
months,  and  frequently  to  nearly  .a  year's  duration.  Open-handed  hospi 
tality  was  the  rule  in  Virginia  in  those  days,  and  to  this  same  free-handed 
practice,  in  great  measure,  were  due  the  financial  embarrassments  that  threw 
a  cloud  over  the  later  years  of  Mr.  Jefferson's  life.  Perhaps  the  beginning 
of  this  trouble  should  not  be  ascribed  wholly  to  this  cause.  For  several 
years  unfavorable  weather  and  other  causes  reduced  the  quantity  of  the 
annual  crop  to  a  minimum  ;  the  embargo  act  which  he  had  urged  and  pro 
moted  in  the  interest  of  the  whole  country,  bore  with  greater  force  on  the 
planters  of  the  Old  Dominion  than  on  any  other  class  of  people,  and  prices 
of  all  commodities  that  were  produced  were  ruinously  low,  while  the  cost 
of  all  articles  to  be  purchased  was  as  extravagantly  high.  Bountiful  crops 
were  gathered  during  the  season  of  1812,  but  the  ninety-days  embargo  and 
the  blockade  of  the  Chesapeake  gave  no  opportunity  for  exportation,  and 
the  produce  from  which  so  much  was  expected  was  of  little  value.  The 
crop  of  wheat  was  unusually  large,  but  there  being  no  market  for  it  it  was 
led  to  stock  and  otherwise  used.  At  the  same  time  the  money  market  was 
in  a  deplorable  state,  credit  was  destroyed,  and  landed  property  worth  next 
to  nothing.  The  Bank  of  the  United  States  was  chartered  in  1816,  and  the 
country  was  soon  flooded  with  its  issue  of  paper.  Another  era  of  wild  spec 
ulation  set  in.  Everything  bore  fictitious  values  in  the  currency  of  the 
times.  By  1819  and  1820  the  climax  was  reached  ;  no  gold  or  silver  was  to 
be  had.  The  only  recourse  for  the  bank  was  to  sell  the  property  of  its 
debtors.  Nearly  all  the  sales  of  property  were  made  by  officers  of  the  court, 
and  the  purchasers  were  the  bank,  or  creditors  who  had  been  hoarding  specie. 
Colonel  Benton,  in  his  Thirty  Years'  View,  says  there  existed  "no  medium 
of  exchange  but  depreciated  paper  ;  no  change  even,  but  little  bits  of  foul 
paper,  marked  as  so  many  cents,  and  signed  by  some  tradesman,  barkeeper, 
or  innkeeper  ;  exchange  deranged  to  the  extent  of  fifty  or  one  hundred 
per  cent.  Distress  the  universal  cry  of  the  people  ;  relief  the  universal 
demand  thundered  at  the  doors  of  all  legislatures,  state  and  federal." 

The  years  following  the  retirement  of  Mr.  Jefferson,  to  the  time  of  his 
death,  called  for  retrenchment  in  all  things.  To  one  who  had  lived  almost 
a  lifetime  subject  to  the  freehanded  custom  of  Virginians,  this  was  almost 
an  impossibility.  The  salary  provided  the  President  of  the  United  States 


PECUNIARY    TROUBLES.  427 

is  not  calculated  to  do  more  than  support  the  necessary  expenses  of  his 
establishment,  and  few  cases  are  on  record  where  the  chief  magistrate 
lias  lived  within  his  income.  Mr.  Jefferson  was  no  exception  to  this  rule. 
Although  provisions  of  all  kinds  were  received  from  his  estate  during  his 
residence  in  Washington,  the  close  of  his  term  as  President  found  him  in 
debt  in  the  sum  of  twenty  thousand  dollars.  He  then  owned  more  than 
ten  thousand  acres  of  land,  besides  some  city  lots.  He  had  a  valuable  resi 
dence  and  an  extensive  library.  His  slaves  numbered  two  hundred  ;  and 
altogether  he  was  estimated  to  own  property  to  the  value  of  not  far  from  two 
hundred  thousand  dollars.  He  was  accustomed  to  a  good  style  in  living, 
which  he  found  impossible  to  change  when  he  again  became  plain  Mr.  Jef 
ferson.  The  expense  of  maintaining  so  large  an  establishment  was  enor 
mous.  Of  his  servants,  it  is  safe  to  estimate  that  not  more  than  one-fourth 
produced  even  means  for  their  own  subsistence.  There  were  children, 
the  sick,  aged,  and  infirm  to  provide  for,  thus  reducing  the  working  force 
to  perhaps  fifty  or  sixty.  Kxpense  was  as  inevitable  in  hard  times  as 
in  good.  He  had,  besides  this,  to  contend  against  the  incubus  of  the 
debt  remaining  on  the  estate  brought  him  by  his  wife.  It  is  no  wonder, 
then,  he  found  himself  crippled  in  his  resources.  He  made  strong  and 
determined  efforts  to  overcome  these  adverse  influences,  and  would  un 
doubtedly  have  succeeded  had  he  been  what  he  was  not,  a  man  to  turn 
the  cold  shoulder  to  a  poor  relation.  A  man  who  enjoyed  the  pleasures 
of  refined  home  life,  he  delighted  in  giving  others  less  favorably  situated 
all  such  advantages  as  he  possessed.  He  enjoyed  the  society  of  the 
learned  of  all  nations,  and  seldom  a  week  passed  that  such  persons  were 
not  receiving  the  hospitality  of  his  mansion.  In  one  case  a  friend  from 
abroad,  with  a  family  of  six  persons,  remained  at  Monticello  ten  months, 
and  at  another  time  enjoyed  his  hospitality  six  months.  Not  always  were  his 
visitors  of  a  class  congenial  to  himself  or  his  family.  People  possessed  of  a 
morbid  curiosity  to  ga/.e  upon  the  face  of  a  great  man,  were  frequent  callers 
at  his  house,  and  made  themselves  free  of  his  grounds  and  garden,  much 
as  they  would  with  a  public  park  or  picnic  ground.  They  ranged  themselves 
along  both  sides  of  the  entrance  hall,  frequently  consulting  their  time 
pieces,  anxiously  awaiting  the  hour  when  he  would  pass  through  on  his  way 
to  the  dining  room.  The}'  gathered  about  the  piazza  where  he  was  accus 
tomed  to  sit  after  dinner,  engaged  in  conversation  with  friends  ;  and  it  is 
said  one  woman  had  the  impertinence  to  punch  her  parasol  through  a  win 
dow  in  order  to  obtain  a  better  view  of  him.  To  these  things  he  submitted, 
though  they  caused  him  great  annoyance. 

The  mode  of  travel  was  then  in  carriages  or  on  horseback.  The  sta 
bles  at  Monticello  would  accommodate  many  horses,  and  every  night  in  the 
summer  found  them  filled ;  carriages  that  could  not  be  gotten  into  the  car 
riage  houses  were  placed  under  the  shelter  of  large  trees  in  the  vicinity  of 


428  THOMAS    JEFFERSON. 

the  stables.  It  consumed  all  the  provender  that  could  be  raised  on  his 
Monticello  estate  to  provide  for  his  own  animals  and  those  belonging  to 
the  flood  of  visitors  that  came.  The  house  was  commodious,  as  many 
as  fifty  beds  being  occupied  at  one  time.  In  providing  food  for  all  these  a 
large  drain  was  made  on  the  Bedford  estate.  It  is  a  melancholy  fact  that 
Mr.  Jefferson  was  made  poor  by  entertaining  his  friends.  He  would  not, 
however,  allow  these  things  to  trouble  him,  his  peculiarly  sunny  tempera 
ment  causing  him  to  look  on  the  bright  side  of  life. 

His  plantations  were  not  very  profitable.  Much  of  the  soil  was  of 
an  inferior  character,  and  did  not  compare  with  the  farms  belonging  to 
some  of  his  neighbors.  Nor  was  he  always  careful  as  a  manager.  His 
taste  was  discriminating,  and  he  sacrificed  much  in  making  his  surround 
ings  pleasant.  Foreign  trees  and  plants  adorned  the  grounds — everything 
that  could  lend  beauty  to  the  eye  and  harmonize  with  his  conception 
of  the  beautiful.  His  servants  were  many,  and  the  expense  connected 
with  keeping  up  a  large  establishment  was  enormous.  He  imported  sheep, 
swine,  and  other  animals,  not  so  much  for  his  own  profit  as  for  the  good  of 
Virginia,  which  he  had  always  in  view.  His  neighbors  believed  a  flouring- 
mill  would  be  of  advantage,  and  he  at  once  began  the  construction  of  one 
on  a  large  scale.  The  mill  was  four  stories  in  height,  built  of  stone,  with 
four  run  of  buhrs.  A  dam  was  built  three-fourths  of  a  mile  above,  and  a 
canal  dug  to  convey  the  water  to  the  mill.  For  this  it  was  necessary  to  blast 
the  rock  most  of  the  way,  which  was  done  at  an  enormous  outlay.  Soon 
after  the  mill  was  completed  and  in  running  order,  came  a  great  freshet  that 
washed  out  the  dam.  It  was  immediately  rebuilt,  but  the  mill  never  was 
profitable.  In  addition  to  this  he  had  a  nail  factory,  in  which  ten  men  were 
sometimes  employed  under  an  experienced  overseer.  Nearly  everything 
used  on  his  estate  was  made  by  his  servants,  from  a  hand-rake  to  the  fine 
carriage  in  which  he  rode. 

During  the  year  1814  the  British  troops  captured  Washington  city,  and 
wantonly  destroyed  valuable  papers  belonging  to  the  government,  among 
other  things  burning  the  extensive  library  of  Congress,  which  it  would 
be  impossible  to  replace.  On  hearing  of  this  act  of  vandalism,  Mr.  Jeffer 
son  wrote,  under  date  of  September  21,  1814,  to  Mr.  Samuel  H.  Smith, 
offering  Congress  his  library,  the  accumulation  of  more  than  fifty  years,  to 
replace  the  one  destroyed.  This  offer  was  made  partly  for  the  relief  it 
would  bring  him,  but  principally  through  patriotic  motives.  His  idea  was 
to  have  the  books  appraised  by  a  committee,  and  allow  them  the  privilege  of 
purchase  on  their  own  terms.  It  had  always  been  his  intention  to  leave  his 
books  in  such  condition  that  Congress  could  acquire  them  at  a  nominal  sum 
in  the  event  of  his  death,  but  the  urgency  of  the  case  induced  him  to  make 
an  earlier  offer.  He  desired  the  privilege  of  retaining  a  portion  of  the 
books, — one  set  of  encyclopedias  and  a  few  classical  works, — during  his  life. 


PECUNIARY    TROUBLES.  429 

The  joint  library  committee  of  Congress  was  authorized  to  contract  for 
the  purchase  of  the  library.  The  subject  was  brought  before  the  Senate  in 
October,  and  much  discussion  ensued,  the  final  vote  on  its  purchase  not 
being  taken  until  January  26,  1815.  Several  of  Mr.  Jefferson's  personal 
friends  voted  against  the  purchase,  for  the  reason  that  they  deemed  the  sum 
required  beyond  the  means  of  government,  the  expenses  caused  by  the  war 
being  at  the  time  quite  large.  It  was,  however,  carried  by  a  vote  of  eighty- 
one  to  seventy-one,  the  price  fixed  being  twenty-three  thousand  nine  hun 
dred  and  fifty  dollars.  The  price  was  placed  at  that  low  figure  in  accord 
ance  with  the  wishes  of  Mr.  Jefferson,  although  the  actual  cost  of  the 
library  was  more  than  twice  that  sum. 

As  the  years  dragged  along,  the  means  of  Mr.  Jefferson  became  more 
limited.  It  was  not  until  sometime  in  1825,  however,  that  a  crisis  in  his 
worldly  affairs  became  imminent.  lie  had  previously  endorsed  a  note  for 
an  intimate  friend,  who  was  somewhat  embarrassed,  but  who  had  no  doubt 
he  should  be  able  to  meet  his  obligations.  Mr.  Jefferson  shared  this  belief, 
and  allowed  the  use  of  his  name,  a  thing  entirely  foreign  to  the  habit 
of  a  lifetime.  The  result  was,  he  had  to  pay  the  sum  of  twenty  thousand 
dollars,  in  addition  to  his  own  debts.  It  produced  a  serious  embarrass 
ment,  which  he  was  fain  to  tide  over  by  recourse  to  what  in  this  day  would 
be  deemed  a  questionable  mode  of  procedure.  He  requested  of  the  legisla 
ture  permission  to  dispose  of  a  portion  of  his  estate  by  means  of  a  lottery, 
and  in  a  communication  to  that  body  suggested  that  "the  end  justifies  the 
means."  Such  cases  were  on  record,  there  having  been  not  less  than  twenty 
between  the  years  1782  and  1820.  The  bill  was  passed  by  a  large  majority. 
When  it  became  known  that  Mr.  Jefferson  was  compelled  by  pecuniary 
distress  to  sell  his  home,  public  feeling  was  aroused  throughout  the  Union. 
The  mayor  of  New  York  raised  eight  thousand  five  hundred  dollars  for  his 
relief.  Other  cities  were  not  far  behind.  Philadelphia  gave  five  thousand 
dollars  and  Baltimore  three  thousand  dollars.  The  lottery  scheme  was 
abandoned.  Mr.  Jefferson  was  much  gratified  by  this  testimonial  of  the 
affection  and  esteem  of  the  people  he  had  so  long  and  faithfully  served. 
Had  the  matter  been  presented  in  a  different  light  ;  had  the  money  been 
procured  by  a  tax  assessed  upon  the  people,  he  would  never  have  accepted 
it.  Coming  as  it  did,  as  a  spontaneous  burst  of  affection  for  him, — as  a  vol 
untary  offering, — he  accepted  it  with  thanks.  The  sum  thus  secured  pro 
vided  for  the  remainder  of  his  life  peace  and  comfort,  undisturbed  by  fears 
of  leaving  his  family  in  debt  and  distress  at  his  death. 

Until  within  three  weeks  of  his  death  Mr.  Jefferson  followed  his  usual 
habit  of  taking  a  short  ride  in  pleasant  weather.  In  the  latter  part  of 
1822  he  met  with  an  accident,  caused  by  the  breaking  away  of  a  de 
cayed  step,  precipitating  him  violently  to  the  ground.  His  left  arm  was 
broken  by  this  accident,  and  caused  him  much  trouble,  his  right  hand  being 


43O  THOMAS    JEFFERSON. 

already  almost  useless,  by  reason  of  a  dislocation  of  the  wrist  when  in 
France.  Notwithstanding  these  infirmities,  he  would  allow  no  one  to  accom 
pany  him  on  his  rides.  On  one  occasion,  in  crossing  a  small  stream,  his 
horse  became  mired  in  descending  the  bank,  and  threw  his  rider  over  his 
head.  A  close  grasp  of  the  bridle  rein  only  saved  him  from  drowning. 
The  horse,  in  its  efforts  to  free  itself  from  the  mire,  dragged  him  to  the 
land,  and  his  life  was  saved.  In  February,  1826,  he  was  much  prostrated 
by  a  chronic  diarrhoea,  but  concealed  his  weakness  from  his  family  as  far  as 
possible.  He  was  conscious  that  his  end  was  approaching,  and  while  his 
bodily  powers  were  fast  giving  way,  his  mental  faculties  still  remained,  though 
at  times  memory  failed  him.  In  March  he  wrote  his  last  will,  and  not  until 
then  did  he  let  any  member  of  his  family  know  that  he  believed  death  was 
near.  The  last  letter  he  wrote  was  dated  June  24,  1826,  and  was  the  decli 
nation  of  a  request  that  he  be  present  at  the  anniversary  of  the  declaration 
of  independence,  to  be  celebrated  in  Washington,  July  4th.  His  strength 
rapidly  failed  from  this  time  forward,  and  he  expressed  a  hope  that  he  might 
be  permitted  to  live  until  the  anniversary  of  independence.  He  had  never 
wished  the  attendance  of  his  family  in  his  room,  but  during  the  last  few 
weeks  of  his  life  reconciled  himself  to  their  care  and  attention.  His 
daughter  passed  much  of  the  daytime  in  his  room,  and  his  grandson, 
Thomas  Jefferson  Randolph,  was  with  him  during  the  night,  assisted  by 
several  valued  servants.  Several  times  during  the  second  and  third  days 
of  July  he  anxiously  inquired  if  it  were  yet  the -4th.  The  end  came 
at  12:50  meridian,  of  July  4,  1826,  with  his  family  surrounding  his  bed 
side.  The  morning  of  the  same  day  his  compatriot  and  friend,  John  Adams, 
lay  on  the  bed  of  death  many  hundred  miles  distant.  Awaiting  dissolution 
he  said  to  those  attending  him:  " Thomas  Jefferson  still  survives/' 
In  a  few  hours  he  too  had  passed  away.  Jefferson  had  ceased  to  breathe 
ere  Mr.  Adams  uttered  the  words  inscribed  above.  True  it  is,  Thomas 
Jefferson  still  survives  in  the  life  of  the  great  republic  he  helped  form,  and 
to  which  he  gave  the  best  years  of  his  life. 

After  the  death  of  Mr.  Jefferson  the  incentive  to  pay  his  debts  by  vol 
untary  subscriptions  ceased.  The  sum  of  money  that  had  been  received 
was  greatly  over-estimated,  and,  Avhile  it  afforded  temporary  relief,  was 
inadequate  to  the  payment  of  the  liabilities  against  his  estate  and  the  sup 
port  of  his  family.  His  executor  attempted  to  dispose  of  the  property  by 
means  of  the  lottery  scheme  already  alluded  to ;  but  the  burden  would  fall 
upon  his  friends  alone,  wrho  could  not  make  such  subscriptions  as  would 
insure  its  disposal  at  a  fair  price.  He  therefore  took  the  only  course,  and 
during  the  three  succeeding  years  disposed  of  the  entire  estate,  though 
for  less  than  the  amount  needed  to  pay  the  debts.  When  the  truth  reached 
the  public  that  the  proceeds  of  the  sale  were  absorbed,  leaving  no  provision 
for  his  family,  patriotic  feeling  was  again  aroused.  The  legislature  of 


ILLNESS   AND    DEATH.  431 

South  Carolina  voted  the  sum  of  ten  thousand  dollars,  and  Louisiana 
devoted  the  same  amount  to  this  purpose.  But  there  the  feeling  died  out, 
and  no  further  amounts  were  received. 

In  a  private  drawer  in  Mr.  Jefferson's  desk  were  found  several  sou 
venirs  of  his  dead  wife  and  children,  and  beside  these  a  rough  draft  of  a 
monument  for  himself,  accompanied  by  an  epitaph,  relating  the  acts  of 
his  life  in  which  he  took  the  greatest  satisfaction.  The  epitaph  reads: 

Here  was  Buried 

THOMAS  JEFFERSON, 

author  of  the 

DECLARATION  OF  AMERICAN  INDEPENDENCE, 

of 

THE  STATUTES  OF  VIRGINIA  FOR  RELIGIOUS  FREEDOM, 

and   father  of 

THE  UNIVERSITY   OF  VIRGINIA. 

"Jefferson  was  among  the  most  fortunate  of  men,1'  writes  James 
Parton,  in  his  able  summary  of  the  character  of  the  author  of  the  Dec 
laration  of  Independence.  "It  was  Jefferson's  happiness  to  derive  from 
his  progenitors  the  maximum  of  help,  with  the  minimum  of  hindrance. 
.  .  .  His  father,  too,  though  not  a  scholar,  was  a  man  of  sound  intel 
ligence  and  practical  ability,  who  honored  learning  by  word  and  deed,  and 
marked  out  for  his  boy  a  liberal  career.  The  political  part  of  Thomas 
Jefferson's  career  in  America  was  the  application  and  development  of  the 
ancient  Whig  principles  which  his  father  loved  and  lived.  .  .  .  He 
was  an  indomitable  student  always,  and  a  man  of  better  sustained  activity 
than  almost  any  other  of  his  time.  There  was  not  an  idle  bone  in  his 
body.  In  his  public  life  the  same  good  fortune  attended  him.  He  was 
usually  in  the  thick  of  events  when  his  presence  was  of  the  utmost  ad 
vantage  to  himself;  but  on  several  occasions  he  enjoyed  those  happy 
absences  from  the  scene  of  difficulty  which  have  often  sufficed  to  give  a 
public  man  ascendency  over  his  rivals.  These  absences  were  never  con 
trived,  and  their  advantage  never  could  have  been  foreseen.  During  that 
buoyant  and  inspiring  period  when  all  hearts  were  in  unison,  from  the 
Stamp  act  to  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  circumstances  and  inclina 
tion  united  to  keep  him  in  the  van  of  affairs,  and  to  assign  him  the  kind 
of  work  in  doing  which  nature  had  formed  him  to  excel.  Thus,  by  an 
exercise  of  his  talents,  which  we  ma}'  call  slight  and  accidental,  his  name 
was  forever  associated  with  the  act  that  began  the  National  life  of  Amer 
ica.  Virginia  then  summoned  him  imperatively  away  to  adjust  her  laws 
and  institutions  to  the  declaration  which  he  had  penned.  When  at  last 


432  THOMAS    JEFFERSON. 

his  good  fortune  seemed  to  forsake  him  and  the  storm  of  war  broke  over 
Virginia,  so  long  exempt,  and  swept  away  civil  government  and  civil 
governor,  then  the  triumph  of  Yorktown  consigned  his  mishaps  to 
prompt  oblivion,  and  all  men  saw  in  the  light  of  that  triumph  that  he  had 
done  whatever  was  possible  by  civil  methods. 

"  After  the  war, "  continues  Mr.  Parton,  "during  all  that  anxious  and 
dividing  period  when  the  thirteen  states  lacked  the  hoop  to  the  barrel,  he 
was  honorably  absent  in  France ;  and  again,  during  the  frenzied  time  of 
American  politics,  from  1797  to  1800,  he  was  safe  and  snug  at  home, 
while  friend  and  foe  conspired  to  give  prominence  and  fascination  to  his 
name.  In  the  closing  years  of  his  life,  his  peace  was  disturbed  by  the  de 
cline  in  the  value  of  his  estate,  and  by  apprehension  for  the  future  of  hb 
descendants.  But  he  died  without  knowing  the  worst,  and  the  timely 
generosity  of  two  grateful  states  saved  his  daughter  from  painful  embar 
rassment.  .  .  .  Jefferson  needed  the  happy  accidents  of  life  to  atonr 
for  his  deficiencies  as  a  public  man.  He  was  shy;  he  shrank  from  pub 
licity;  he  was  not  combative ;  he  was  no  orator ;  he  could  not  have  con 
trolled  a  public  assembly,  nor  handled  a  mass  meeting.  Nature  had  nof 
fitted  him  for  an  executive  office;  and  if  he  had  lived  in  peaceful  time? 
and  been  born  subject  to  the  ordinary  conditions,  he  never  would  have 
made  his  way  into  politics  at  all.  Whether  he  would  have  been  an  artist 
or  a  man  of  science  would  have  depended  upon  the  place  and  time  of  his 
birth;  but  he  would  have  pursued  either  of  those  careers  with  that  blend 
ing  of  passion  and  plod  which  distinguishes  the  man  who  is  doing  the 
precise  thing  nature  meant  him  to  do.  But  having  been  called  into  pol 
itics,  and  kept  in  politics  by  the  exigencies  of  his  country  and  by  the 
proprieties  of  the  place  he  held  in  it,  he  bore  himself  wonderfully  well. 
He  represented  the  best  side  of  his  country  in  a  foreign  land,  remaining 
proof  against  all  the  seductions  of  his  place  to  take  part  with  the  graceful 
and  picturesque  oppressor,  instead  of  the  homely,  helpless,  ill-favored 
oppressed." 

The  distinguished  author  from  whom  the  above  reflections  have  been 
culled,  still  finds  that  good  fortune  which  he  has  described,  pursuing 
the  subject  of  this  memoir  after  he  has  passed  by  various  gradations  of 
trust,  to  the  occupancy  of  the  highest  office  in  the  land.  "  A  general 
peace  promptly  followed  his  inauguration ;  and  when  that  peace  was 
broken  (an  event  that  brought  woe  upon  the  rest  of  Christendom),  it  en 
abled  Jiim  to  add  to  his  country  the  most  valuable  acquisition  which  \\ 
was  possible  for  it  to  receive.  While  Europe  shuddered  to  hear  the  mut 
tering  of  the  coming  storm,  three  gentlemen  in  Paris  quietly  arranged  the 
terms  on  which  the  United  States  were  to  possess  the  mouth  of  the  Mis 
sissippi  and  an  empire  which  the  Mississippi  drained.  But  I  venture 
again  to  affirm  that,  much  as  he  was  favored  by  fortune,  his  merit  was 


LIFE   AND   CHARACTER.  433 

equal  to  his  fortune.  He  rose  to  every  opportunity,  and  improved  to  the 
very  uttermost  all  his  chances.  Since  civil  government  was  founded, 
never  was  a  government  administered  with  such  strict,  single-hearted, 
such  noble-minded,  such  wise  fidelity."  Touching  upon  another  point 
over  which  controversy  has  been  at  times  suggested  rather  than  held,  the 
same  writer  has  said:  "  I  cannot  agree  with  those  who  think  he  ought, 
being  an  abolitionist,  to  have  emancipated  his  slaves.  There  are  virtuous 
and  heroic  acts,  which,  when  they  are  done,  are  passionately  admired, 
but  which,  at  the  same  time,  we  have  no  right  to  demand  or  expect. 
Few  persons  acquainted  with  the  history  and  character  of  John  Brown 
could  avoid  having  some  sense  of  the  real  sublimity  of  his  conduct  ;  but 
who  pretend  that  human  affairs  admit  of  being  generally  conducted  on 
the  John  Brown  principle?  If  Jefferson,  on  coming  to  a  clear  sense  of 
the  iniquity  of  slavery  and  the  impossibility  of  inducing  Virginia  to 
abolish  it,  had  set  his  slaves  free  and  led  them  forth  .  .  .  and  con 
ducted  them  to  a  free  territory,  and  established  them  as  freemen  and  free 
holders,  standing  by  them  until  they  were  able  to  take  care  of  them 
selves,  he  would  have  done  one  of  those  high,  heroic  deeds  which  con 
temporaries  call  Quixotic  and  posterity  sublime.  And  if,  while  the  young 
patriarch  was  on  the  march,  a  mob  of  white  trash  had  set  upon  him  and 
killed  him,  contemporaries  might  have  said  it  served  him  right,  and  cen 
turies  hence  his  name  might  serve  as  the  pretext  for  a  rie\v  religion,  and 
nations  contend  for  the  possession  of  his  tomb.  But  no  one  has  a  right 
to  censure  him  for  not  having  done  this,  except  a  person  who  has 
given  proof  that,  in  similar  circumstances,  he  would  have  done  it.  Such 
individuals — and  there  are  a  few  such  in  each  generation — seldom  censure 
anyone." 

The  estimates  of  others  as  to  Jefferson's  life  and  character  take  a  wide? 
and  higher  range  than  that  so  carefully  enunciated  in  the  above.  In  dis* 
cussing  it,  during  the  new  relation  of  things  evolved  from  the  recent  civil 
war,  one  eminent  writer  has  said  :  "  Jefferson's  public  life  is  divided  into 
three  distinct  periods — that  preceding  and  during  the  early  stages  oJ 
the  Revolution,  his  residence  abroad,  and  that  after  his  return.  The 
approaching  separation  from  Great  Britain  was  heralded  in  the  Old 
Dominion  by  perhaps  the  most  remarkable  change,  its  manner  and 
rapidity  considered,  that  ever  took  place  in  a  political  body — that  from 
an  aristocratic  to  a  democratic  form  of  government.  Jefferson's  entrance 
into  political  life  was  identified  with  this  powerful  revolution  ;  his  subse 
quent  course  was  deeply  affected  by  it.  So  far  as  the  work  of  organiza 
tion  went,  he  had  a  greater  right  than  any  other  to  look  upon  the  regen 
erated  commonwealth  as  the  work  of  his  hands,  and  in  return  he  was  evef 
the  darling  of  her  heart.  Apart  from  other  considerations,  such  a  rela 
tionship  could  not  fail  to  produce  on  him  the  most  favorable  impressions 


434  THOMAS   JEFFERSON. 

regarding  the  state  governments  in  general.  In  addition  to  this,  in  trying 
the  first  experiment  of  Union,  the  Confederate  congress  was  hardly 
more  than  a  committee  to  give  expression  to  public  sentiment,  and  still  it 
had  borne  with  success  the  highest  strain  to  which  any  government  can 
be  subjected — that  of  carrying  on  war. 

"  With  these  things  in  mind,  Jefferson  assumed  the  embassy  to  France. 
.  .  .  Coming  with  a  great  reputation  from  a  country  which  was  the 
fashion  at  the  moment,  the  doors  of  society  were  thrown  open  and  he  was 
received  into  intimate  association  with  the  first  minds  of  the  French  capi 
tal  at  one  of  the  most  exhilarating  periods  in  the  history  of  the  world.  .  .  . 
But  the  deepest  impression  on  his  mind  was  not  the  result  of  association 
with  learned  or  courtly  circles.  The  cottages  and  workshops  and  the 
daily  life  of  the  peasants  and  people  were  the  chosen  field  of  his  studies  ; 
and  in  several  extended  journeys  he  acquired  a  knowledge  of  the  condi 
tion  of  European  society  and  of  the  actual  working  of  the  different 
governments  equaled  by  few  travelers.  By  this  examination  all  his 
original  ideas  in  favor  of  popular  institutions  were  not  only  confirmed  and 
expanded,  but  his  mind  was  filled  with  a  mingled  feeling  of  indignation 
and  horror  at  the  misery  he  everywhere  encountered.  The  institution  of 
monarchy,  the  governing  classes  and  the  whole  machinery  of  oppression 
became  the  objects  of  the  intensest  detestation.  No  words  but  his  own 
can  convey  a  notion  of  this  feeling.  He  speaks  habitually  of  the  conti 
nental  nations  as  composed  of  '  sheep  and  wolves,'  and  deliberately 
declares  'that  it  would  be  better  that  the  race  of  man  should  be  reduced 
to  a  single  pair,  like  Adam  and  Eve  in  the  garden  of  Eden,  than  to  go  on 
suffering  what  they  endure  from  their  governments.'  His  sympathies 
were,  of  course,  warmly  enlisted  on  the  popular  side  in  the  opening  scenes 
which  he  witnessed  of  the  French  Revolution,  while  his  tastes  and  affec 
tions,  touched  and  won  as  they  might  be  still  by  the  amenity  and  prac 
ticed  kindness  of  the  French,  ever  afterward  pleaded  strongly  in  theif 
favor." 


JAMES    MADISON 


CHAPTER  I. 

BIRTH  AND  EARLY  LIFE. 

PROMINENT  among  the  names  in  the  annals  of  Virginia,  is  that  of 
Madison;  foremost  in  councils  of  state,  in  the  church,  and  in  the 
army.  Diligent  research  made  some  years  since  by  Conway  Robinson, 
Esq.,  a  member  of  the  Historical  society  of  Virginia,  led  to  the  finding  in 
the  state  paper  office  in  London,  of  a  list  of  the  Virginia  colonists  of  1623, 
in  which  occurs  the  name  of  Captain  Isaac  Madison.  In  the  first  accurate 
history  of  the  colony  of  Virginia,  written  by  its  heroic  defender,  Captain 
John  Smith,  due  praise  is  awarded  Captain  Madison  for  his  brilliant  achieve 
ments  against  the  "salvages"  in  1622.  It  is  evident  from  the  accounts 
given  in  early  works,  that  the  family  were  among  the  daring  few  who  braved 
the  terrors  of  a  tedious  voyage  across  an  almost  unknown  sea,  to  meet  the 
not  less  menacing  dangers  of  the  inhospitable  coast.  With  what  contending 
emotions  must  they  have  first  set  foot  on  land  at  Jamestown — joy,  that  they 
were  delivered  from  the  terrors  of  the  deep  ;  fear,  that  the}'  might  have 
escaped  past  dangers  to  meet  those  yet  more  terrible  from  the  unseen 
inhabitants  of  the  forests  that  reached  almost  to  the  water's  edge.  That 
these  fears  were  not  without  foundation  is  proven  in  the  pages  of  history, 
in  the  wars  and  bloodshed  that  ensued  ere  a  permanent  foothold  \vas 
obtained.  The  colonists  had  been  educated  in  a  stern  and  unyielding  school. 
They  brought  with  them  hearts  of  oak  and  constitutions  of  iron,  and  both 
were  required  before  their  work  was  done. 

435 


436  JAMES    MADISON. 

As  early  as  1635,  a  large  tract  of  land  lying  between  the  North  and 
York  rivers,  and  contiguous  to  the  Chesapeake  bay,  was  acquired  by  patent, 
by  John  Madison,  the  progenitor  of  the  branch  of  the  family  to  which 
belonged  James  Madison,  the  fourth  President  of  the  United  States.  John 
Madison  was  the  father  of  John,  and  he  the  father  of  Ambrose,  the  paternal 
grandfather  of  James  Madison,  Jr.  During  the  four  generations  preceding 
the  birth  of  the  future  President,  the  possessions  of  the  family  largely 
increased,  and  in  1651  the  landed  estate  of  James  Madison,  Sr. ,  embraced 
several  plantations  in  Orange,  and  in  the  counties  adjoining.  In  the  care 
and  cultivation  of  these,  as  was  the  custom  of  the  day,  he  employed  many 
slaves,  his  property  by  the  law  of  the  land.  His  position  as  a  landed  pro 
prietor  gave  him  a  prestige  in  the  county  of  Orange,  where  was  his  manor- 
house,  and,  though  he  is  not  known  to  have  taken  any  active  part  in  political 
matters,  during  the  revolutionary  war  he  was  a  county  lieutenant,  the  duties 
of  which  office  he  performed  with  diligence  and  zeal.  He  lived,  with  his 
family,  at  Montpelier,  which  had  also  been  the  home  of  his  father,  Ambrose 
Madison,  and  which  descended  in  direct  line  to  James  Madison,  Jr. 

James  Madison  was  born  March  16,  1751,  at  the  residence  of  his 
maternal  grandmother,  Mrs.  Conway,  on  the  northern  bank  of  the  Rappa- 
hannock  river,  in  King  George  county,  Virginia,  where  his  mother  was 
visiting  when  that  interesting  event  occurred.  Montpelier,  the  estate  on 
which  his  parents  resided,  was  situated  some  sixty  miles  distant.  His  birth 
took  place  in  the  near  vicinity  of  the  homes  of  several  men  who  became 
illustrious.  Of  Eleanor  Conway,  the  mother  of  James  Madison,  little  is 
known.  She  was  the  mother  of  a  large  family  of  children,  seven  of  whom 
— four  sons  and  three  daughters — arrived  at  years  of  maturity.  The  cares 
of  maternity,  together  with  the  duty  of  overseeing  a  large  establish 
ment,  early  undermined  her  constitution ;  her  eldest  son,  when  absent  from 
home  in  early  life,  pursuing  a  course  of  study  planned  by  his  father  and  in 
accordance  with  his  own  desires,  in  his  frequent  letters  expressed  the  solici 
tude  he  felt  regarding  her  health.  And  during  the  years  of  his  public 
career,  he  never  lacked  in  devotion  to  the  one  who  bore  him,  caring  for  hef 
until  she  peacefully  passed  into  rest,  not  many  years  before  his  own  death. 
No  less  wras  his  father  the  object  of  his  care  and  attention  until  his  death, 
in  1801. 

Appreciating  his  own  disadvantages,  the  elder  James  Madison  deter 
mined  that  his  children  should  have  the  privileges  which  his  position  and  the 
means  at  his  command  could  furnish.  While  yet  very  young,  the  boy  was 
placed  in  a  school  conducted  by  a  learned  Scotchman,  Donald  Robertson, 
who,  besides  teaching  some  branches  of  an  elementary  education,  gave  him 
instruction  in  the  Greek,  Latin,  French,  and  Spanish  languages.  He  had 
received  some  earlier  instruction  in  the  vicinity  of  his  home,  but  at  the  school 
of  Mr.  Robertson  was  laid  the  foundation  of  an  education  that  in  after 


BIRTH    AND    EARLY    LIFE. 


437 


}*ars  dcveloqed  those  qualities  of  understanding  that  so  well  fitted  him 
for  political  leadership.  For  some  time  after  leaving-  this  school  he  re 
mained  at  home,  under  the  tuition  of  Rev.  Thomas  Martin,  the  rector  of 
the  parish,  who,  at  that  time,  lived  in  the  Madison  family  at  Montpelier. 
Mr.  Martin  was  a  man  of  learning  and  piety,  and  to  this  instruction,  added 
to  that  of  liis  mother,  is  due  the  strong  religious  principles  that  through 
out  his  life  permeated  the  mind  of  Mr.  Madison.  These  principles  founu 
frequent  expression  in  letters  written  during  early  life,  to  his  college  inti 
mates,  and  remain  ex!  no  less  strong  when  in  mature  years  he  was  surrounded 
by  the  cares  of  state. 

At  the  age  of  seventeen  lie  was  prepared  to  enter  college.  Brought  up 
in  the  communion  of  the  Kpiscopal  church,  it  might  be  expected  he  won!  1 
attend  the  college  of  William  and  Mary,  at  Williamsburg,  which  was  under 
the  control  of  that  denomination.  At  that  time,  however,  the  board  of 
visitors  and  the  faculty  were  not  working  in  harmony  in  the  management 
of  the  in 'liuition  ;  beside,  the  president,  Rev.  Mr.  Horrocks,  was  unpopular 
in  his  position,  circumstances  which  had  the  effect  of  sending  Madison  to  the 
popular  and  growing  college  of  Princeton.  This  institution  had  one  year 
before  acquired  a  valuable  aid  in  the  person  of  Dr.  Witherspoon,  a  gentle 
man  then  aged  forty-six  years,  a  profound  student  and  deep  thinker,  who 
was  the  contemporary  of  such  master  minds  as  Smith,  Ihime,  Reid,  Knmes, 
Robertson,  and  Blair,  from  whose  companionship  he  had  imbibed  deeply  of 
philosophical  ideas;  in  contests  with  the  church  he  had  acquired  prin 
ciples  of  free  thought  and  a  liberty  of  opinion,  that  led  him  early  to  espouse 
the  cause  of  liberty  as  manifested  in  the  resistance  of  the  colonies  to  the 
oppressions  of  the  mother  country.  He  stopped  with  no  half-way  measures, 
but  took  an  important  part  in  the  discussions  that  preceded  the  adoption  of 
the  declaration  of  independence,  and  hesitated  not  a  moment  in  signing 
that  document.  Later  he  was  prominent  in  forming  the  confederation  of 
states,  and  in  the  Congress,  from  the  beginning  to  the  close  of  the  war,  took 
an  active  part. 

Fortunate,  indeed,  were  the  youth  of  that  day  who  were  brought  into 
intimate  companionship  with  one  of  the  superior  mental  endowments  of 
Dr.  Witherspoon.  Mr.  Madison  remained  under  his  instruction  three  years 
is  an  undergraduate,  finally  completing  the  prescribed  course  in  177 1,  receiv 
ing  the  decree  of  bachelor  of  arts.  During  the  three  years  passed  at  Prince- 

o  o  *" 

ton,  the  curriculum  of  the  college  had  been  enlarged  to  correspond  with  the 
learning  of  its  {resident,  and  embraced  as  additions  a  more  comprehensive 
course  in  mathematics,  physical  science,  moral  philosophy,  public  law  and 
politics,  history,  the  art  of  literary  composition,  and  criticism.  To  the 
course  thus  arranged  the  student  brought  habits  of  thought  and  research, 
rare  in  so  young  a  man.  That  he  assimilated  the  good  found  in  such  a  sys 
tem  of  study,  is  apparent  in  the  results  attested  by  the  able  and  compre- 


438  JAMES   MADISON. 

hensive  state  papers  that  were  the  labor  of  his  mature  life,  and  are  yet 
regarded  as  models  of  their  kind. 

The  grade  of  scholarship  in  Princeton  was  high,  and  to  take  no  inferior 
position  was  the  aim  of  the  student.  That  close  application  was  required 
is  evident  when  it  is  known  that  such  men  as  Mr.  Henry,  of  Maryland, 
Brockholst  Livingston,  of  New  York,  William  Bradford,  and  Hugh  H. 
Brackenridge,  of  Pennsylvania,  Aaron  Burr,  Morgan  Lewis,  Aaron  Ogden, 
and. Henry  Lee, — all  of  whom  at  some  period  in  life  occupied  high  places 
in  state  and  nation, — were  fellow-students  of  Madison  in  Princeton. 

One  result  of  the  spirit  of  liberty  infused  into  the  young  men  of  that 
day,  was  the  formation  of  a  society, — the  American  Whig  society, — which 
survives  to  this  time.  Mr.  Madison  is  reputed  one  of  its  founders.  The 
close  of  his  college  course  found  Madison  a  devoted  student.  He  deter 
mined  on  yet  another  year  of  study  at  his  ahna  mater,  under  the  private 
instruction  of  Dr.  Witherspoon,  for  whom  he  had  formed  a  strong  friend 
ship. 

In  1772  Mr.  Madison  returned  to  Montpelier,  where  he  proposed  to 
devote  himself  still  further  to  study.  He  was  now  twenty-one  years  of  age, 
somewhat  feeble  in  health,  by  reason  of  too  close  confinement  and  excessive 
study.  Habit  could  not  easily  be  broken,  and  he  employed  his  time  in  an 
extensive  course  of  reading  for  his  own  improvement,  besides  superintend 
ing  the  instruction  of  his  younger  brothers  and  sisters,  and  maintaining  cor 
respondence  with  young  men  of  kindred  tastes  who  had  been  his  classmates 
and  friends  in  college.  His  most  intimate  friend  and  associate  had  been 
William  Bradford,  of  Pennsylvania,  who  became  an  officer  in  the  revolution 
ary  army,  afterward  judge  of  the  supreme  court  of  Pennsylvania,  and  attorney- 
general  of  the  United  States  under  President  Washington.  In  their  corres 
pondence  these  young  men  discussed  the  leading  political  questions  of  the 
day.  Their  estimate  of  the  course  pursued  by  Great  Britain  in  the  impend 
ing  conflict  coincided.  The  attempt  of  the  mother  country  to  force  the 
colonies  to  purchase  tea  shipped  to  America,  aroused  in  them  a  spirit  of 
indignation,  and  the  action  of  Philadelphia,  Boston,  and  other  ports  in 
refusing  to  receive  it,  met  their  unqualified  approval. 

Although  nurtured  in  the  bosom  of  the  established  church,  Mr.  Madi 
son  was  strongly  opposed  to  the  course  taken  by  the  ecclesiastical  authori 
ties  in  the  persecution  of  dissenters.  Early  in  1774  he  wrote  his  friend 
Bradford  in  regard  to  the  growing  feeling  against  English  oppression,  in  the 
following  language:  "I  verily  believe  the  frequent  assaults  that  have  been 
made  on  America  (Boston  especially,)  will  in  the  end  prove  of  real  advan 
tage.  If  the  church  of  England  had  been  the  established  religion  in  all  the 
northern  colonies,  as  it  has  been  among  us  here,  and  uninterrupted  harmony 
had  prevailed  throughout  the  continent,  it  is  clear  to  me  that  slavery  and 
subjection  might  and  would  have  been  gradually  insinuated  among  us. 


BIRTH    AND    EARLY    LIFE.  439 

Union  in  religious  sentiment  begets  a  surprising  confidence,  and  ecclesias 
tical  establishments  tend  to  great  ignorance  and  corruption,  all  of  which 
facilitate  the  execution  of  mischievous  projects."  No  form  of  tyranny  is  so 
revolting  to  human  nature  as  that  exercised  over  the  mind;  and  no  tyranny 
exercised  over  the  mind  of  man  is  so  abominable  as  that  which  seeks  to 
enslave  the  conscience  in  matters  of  religion.  That  the  persecution  of 
other  sects  by  the  established  church,  under  the  sanction  of  law,  roused  the 
clear  religious  convictions  of  Mr.  Madison,  was  in  great  part  due  to  the 
principles  he  had  developed  in  his  college  life — principles  that  stopped  at 
nothing  less  than  absolute  freedom  of  mind,  body,  and  estate. 

When  the  legislature  of  Virginia  met  in  May,  1774,  and  received  news 
of  the  closing  of  the  port  of  Boston  and  the  removal  of  the  custom  house 
to  Salem,  in  unison  with  the  spirit  pervading  the  entire  country  at  the  time, 
that  body  strongly  condemned  the  retaliatory  measures  of  the  mother  coun 
try,  and  passed  resolutions  setting  apart  the  1st  of  June  as  a  day  of  fast 
ing,  humiliation,  and  prayer.  As  soon  as  these  facts  came  to  the  ear  of 
the  royal  governor,  Lord  Dunmore,  he  dissolved  the  house  of  burgesses. 
This  act  did  not  have  the  effect  to  intimidate  the  members,  who  soon  reas 
sembled  in  the  "Apollo,"  the  long  private  room  of  the  Raleigh  tavern,  and 
there  formed  themselves  into  a  voluntary  association  to  "deliberate  on 
those  general  measures  which  the  united  interests  of  America  may,  from 
time  to  time  require."  At  a  subsequent  meeting  a  resolution  was  passed 
inviting  the  other  colonies  to  a  congress  to  be  hoklen  for  consideration  of 
the  grave  subjects  then  at  issue.  At  the  same  time  a  convention  was  called, 
to  meet  at  \Yilliumsburg  on  the  1st  of  August  following,  to  appoint  dele 
gates  to  the  general  congress.  On  the  5th  of  September  the  congress  met 
at  Philadelphia,  and  took  steps  that  eventually  led  to  the  declaration  of 
independence. 

While  the  congress  was  yet  in  session  the  troops  of  Virginia,  by  a 
hard-fought  battle  at  Point  Pleasant,  conquered  the  Indians  who  had  for 
years  been  committing  devastation  on  her  borders.  The  campaign  which 
had  been  so  decisive  in  disposing  of  the  lurking  foe  in  the  west,  was  con 
cluded  none  too  soon.  The  events  that  had  already  taken  place  had  aroused 
in  the  people  a  demand  for  war,  and  the  work  of  embodying  and  drilling 
additional  troops  was  at  once  begun.  In  each  count}-  was  raised  one  inde 
pendent  company  of  one  hundred  men,  making  the  Virginia  contingent  to 
consist  of  six  thousand  troops,  armed  and  equipped  at  their  own  expense. 
The  burden  of  raising  a  company  in  the  count}'  of  Orange  fell  on  the  elder 
Madison,  as  count}'  lieutenant.  There  was  no  lack  of  enthusiasm,  and 
difficulty  was  experienced  in  limiting  the  company  to  the  prescribed  num 
ber,  men  who  had  served  as  officers  in  previous  Indian  wars  being  eager 
to  take  place  in  the  ranks.  The  committee  of  public  safety  in  Orange  was 
composed  of  such  men  as  Madison,  Taylor,  Barbour  Taliafero.  James 


44O  J  A  M  KS    M  A  D I  SON . 

Madison,  Jr.,  was  associated  with  these  older  members,  in  the  consideration 
of  measures  for  defense. 

The  i Qth  of  April,  1/75,  will  be  ever  memorable  in  the  history  of  the 
country,  in  that  on  that  day  occurred  at  Lexington  and  Concord,  the  first 
conflict  between  the  colonists  and  the  soldiers  of  the  king.  This  was  the 
first  overt  act  of  hostility  in  a  war  that  lasted  nearly  eight  years,  and  assured 
the  independence  of  the  colonies.  The  day  following  the  engagement  at 
Concord  and  Lexington,  April  2Oth,  Lord  Dunmore  dispatched  a  small  body 
of  marines  from  the  sloop-of  war  Magdalen,  lying  in  the  James  river,  to 
remove  the  powder  from  the  store-house  at  Williamsburg.  Under  cover  of 
night  the  object  was  accomplished  without  loss,  and  some  fifteen  or  twenty 
barrels  of  powder  were  removed.  This  action  of  the  royal  governor  roused 
the  people,  and  kindled  a  flame  of  indignation  that  spread  throughout  the 
province.  So  soon  as  the  news  of  this  exploit  was  received  at  Fredericks- 
burg,  a  meeting  of  the  independent  company  was  called,  at  which  it  was 
resolved  that  they  hold  themselves  in  readiness  to  march,  as  light-horse,  to 
Williamsburg  on  the  following  Saturday,  the  29th  of  April.  At  the  same 
time  the  officers  of  the  company  drew  up  a  letter  addressed  to  independent 
companies  in  the  neighborhood,  and  inviting  their  co-operation  in  the 
projected  enterprise.  Before  the  appointed  day,  fourteen  companies, 
comprising  upward  of  six  hundred  men,  well  mounted  and  equipped, 
assembled  in  Fredericksburg.  As  they  were  about  to  start  on  the  expedi 
tion,  a  letter  was  received  from  the  Hon.  Peyton  Randolph,  late  speaker  of 
the  house  of  burgesses,  advising  them  to  moderation,  stating  that  the 
governor  had  given  full  assurance  of  satisfaction  regarding  the  gunpowder. 
In  deference  to  his  wishes  the  expedition  was  temporarily  abandoned;  at  the 
same  time  the  assembled  patriots  were  bold  in  the  expression  of  their 
opinions  as  to  the  course  to  be  pursued  in  the  future;  as  they  said:  "Con 
sidering  the  just  rights  and  liberty  of  America  to  be  greatly  endangered  by 
the  violent  and  hostile  proceedings  of  an  arbitrary  ministry,  and  being 
firmly  resolved  to  resist  such  attempts  at  the  hazard  of  our  lives  and  for 
tunes,  we  do  no\v  pledge  ourselves  to  each  other  to  be  in  readiness,  at  a 
moment's  warning,  to  re-assemble,  and  by  force  of  arms  to  defend  the  law, 
1  he  liberty,  and  rights  of  this  or  any  sister  colony,  from  unjust  and  wicked 
invasion."  Instead  of  the  traditional  formula  used  by  the  royal  governor 
in  concluding  his  proclamations — "God  save  the  king" — they  closed  with 
the  sounding  words,  "God  save  the  liberties  of  America." 

A  few  days  later,  Patrick  Henry,  captain  of  the  Hanover  independent 
company,  becoming  satisfied  Lord  Dunmore  had  no  intention  of  making 
restitution  of  the  powder,  assembled  his  men  with  the  purpose  of  "making 
reprisals  upon  the  king's  property  sufficient  to  replace  the  gunpowder  taken 
out  of  the  magazine."  A  detachment  was  sent  to  the  residence  of  the 
receiver-general,  in  King  William  county,  he  having  control  of  the  fiscal 


BIRTH    AND    EARLY    LIFE.  yj.jl 

affairs  of  the  province,  but  not  finding  him  at  home  it  rejoined  the  com 
pany  at  Doncastle's  ordinary,  sixteen  miles  from  \Yilliamsburg.  Here  the 
party  remained  until  the  following  morning,  when  the  receiver-general  sent 
Mr.  Henry  his  bill  of  exchange  for  three  hundred  and  thirty  pounds  sterling, 
the  estimated  value  of  the  munitions  removed  from  the  magazine,  for  which 
the  latter  gave  his  receipt,  and  withdrew,  with  his  command,  to  their 
homes. 

The  bold  achievement  of  Patrick  Henry  and  his  company,  received 
the  cordial  approval  of  patriots  everywhere,  and  in  no  county  were  the 
manifestations  of  delight  more  enthusiastic  than  in  Orange.  The  committee 
of  that  county,  in  the  handwriting  of  James  Madison,  expressed  its 
approbation  of  the  course  pursued  by  the  Hanover  militia,  and  formulated 
an  address  to  "  Captain  Patrick  Henry  and  the  gentlemen  independents  of 
Hanover."  The  address  was  signed  by  James  Madison,  chairman;  James 
Madison,  Jr.,  James  Taylor,  Thomas  Harbour,  Laurence  Taliaferro,  and 
sixty  others.  Not  long  after,  the  case  of  Rev.  Mr.  \Yingate,  charged  with 
having  in  his  possession  various  pamphlets  calling  in  question  the  acts  of 
Congress,  which  he  refused  to  give  to  the  committee  upon  their  application, 
called  for  decided  action.  The  papers  were  at  length  peremptorily 
demanded,  and  given  up  under  protest.  .After  examination  they  were 
found  to  be  so  inimical  to  the  cause  of  the  colonies  that  they  were  ordered 
burnt,  which  order  was  carried  out  in  presence  of  the  militia  and  a  large 
concourse  of  people.  The  resolution  condemning  them  was  prepared  and 
ivritten  by  the  younger  Madison. 

From  the  dissolution  of  the  house  of  burgesses  in  May,  17/4,  the 
?ause  of  the  king  had  steadily  declined  in  strength.  The  course  pursued  by 
"he  militia  in  regard  to  the  seizure  of  the  gunpowder,  and  other  actions  of 
.he  people  condemnatory  of  his  policy  as  governor,  convinced  Lord  Dun- 
more  that  he  was  losing  all  hold  in  the  colony.  He  thereupon  issued  a 
proclamation  denouncing  the  rebellious  practices  of  the  king's  subjects,  and 
threatened  them  with  the  vengeance  of  offended  majesty  should  they  not 
immediately  return  to  their  former  allegiance.  On  the  occasion  of  some 
commotion  in  \Yilliamsburg  he  proposed  burning  the  town,  and  arming  the 
slaves  against  their  masters,  should  his  will  not  be  obeyed.  The  last  session 
of  the  royal  legislature  was  called  to  meet  at  Williamsburg,  June  I,  1/75, 
to  consider  the  "conciliator}'  propositions"  of  Lord  North.  Soon  after  it 
convened  the  governor  took  refuge  on  the  ship  of  war  Foii'cy,  then  riding  at 
anchor  in  the  York  river,  being  fearful  the  people  might  cause  injury  to 
himself  or  family.  The  legislature  remained  in  session  until  the  24th  of 
June,  when  it  adjourned,  to  meet  again  the  I2tli  day  of  October.  Before 
that  day  arrived,  the  war  of  the  revolution  had  broken  all  ties  between  king 
and  people. 

A  convention  of  delegates,  chosen  by  the  people,  assembled  in  Rich' 


442  JAMES    MADISON. 

mond,  on  Juiy  17,  1775,  and  among  other  things  passed  resolutions  for  the 
enlistment  and  arming  of  two  regiments  of  regular  soldiers,  and  sixteen 
battalions  of  militia,  besides  six  companies  of  independent  militia  for  service 
on  the  border.  Patrick  Henry  was  appointed  colonel  of  the  first  regiment, 
and  commander  in  chief  of  the  forces  in  Virginia.  A  committee  of  safety 
was  appointed,  to  which,  owing  to  the  hostile  attitude  of  the  royal  gov 
ernor,  was  confided,  for  the  time  being,  the  government  of  the  province.  At 
the  same  time  they  declared  their  allegiance  to  King  George  the  Third,  as 
their  lawful  sovereign.  Even  at  this  late  date  there  were  not  wanting  those 
who  believed  the  king  would  himself  take  steps  to  counteract  the  oppressive 
measures  instituted  by  his  advisers,  and  that  peace  would  again  be  assured 
under  the  powerful  protection  of  the  government  themselves  and  their  fathers 
had  served  for  so  many  generations. 

The  second  continental  Congress  had  assembled  at  Philadelphia  some 
months  previous  to  this,  and  May  29,  1775,  it  passed  resolutions  for  secur 
ing  some  effective  mode  of  defense  in  the  colonies  ;  and  at  the  same  time, 
in  obedience  to  the  wishes  of  certain  members,  drew  up  a  second  petition 
to  the  king,  \vhich  was  presented  to  parliament,  and  by  it  denounced  as  a 
scheme  to  quiet  the  government  until  the  provinces  were  fully  prepared  for 
the  establishment  of  an  independent  empire  in  the  west.  On  the  I5th  of 
June,  Congress  provided  for  the  direction  of  the  army  by  appointing  George 
Washington  commander  in  chief,  with  four  major-generals,  eight  brigadiers, 
and  an  adjutant-general,  as  his  subordinates;  it  also  voted  three  millions  of 
dollars  for  the  arming  and  subsistence  of  the  military  forces  of  the  col 
onies.  Other  action  was  taken,  among  the  most  important  being  a  declara 
tion  setting  forth  the  causes  that  led 'to  the  taking  up  of  arms;  that  this 
had  not  been  done  with  the  design  of  separating  from  Great  Britain  and 
establishing  independent  states.  This  document  was  the  joint  production 
of  Mr.  Dickinson  and  Mr.  Jefferson,  and  was  read  section  by  section  a-«<i 
discussed  by  the  full  house  previous  to  its  adoption. 


CHOSEN    DELEGATE   IN    VIRGINIA    CONVENTION. 


CHAPTER  II. 

CHOSEN  DELEGATE  IN  VIRGINIA  CONVENTION-ELECTED  TO  CONGRESS. 

THE  condition  of  his  health  had  prevented  Mr.  Madison  entering  the 
army,  much  as  lie  desired  so  to  do  on  the  breaking  out  of  hostilities. 
Many  of  his  college  associates  had  obtained  commissions  in  the  service,  as 
had  his  younger  brother,  Ambrose.  Broken  down  and  debilitated  by  exces 
sive  study,  lie  was  unable  to  endure  the  hardships  and  privations  of  the 
camp  and  field,  and  perforce  denied  himself  the  service  which  he  would 
have  esteemed  a  privilege.  Connected,  as  he  was,  with  the  committee  of 
his  county,  he  manifested  zeal  and  energy  in  the  prosecution  of  the  duties 
that  la}'  near  him,  and  the  exercise  required  in  the  performance  of  these 
duties  was  of  benefit  to  his  health.  His  association  with  the  people  of  the 
county  had  shown  them  the  material  of  which  he  was  made,  and  with  united 
voice  he  was  called  to.  represent  them  as  a  delegate  in  the  convention,  called 
to  meet  at  \Yilliamsburg  the  6th  of  May,  1/76.  Me  was  then  twenty-five 
years  of  age,  and  with  perhaps  one  or  two  exceptions,  the  youngest  dele 
gate  in  the-  convention.  His  associates  were  the  most  prominent  persons  in 
the  pnrvince — such  men  as  Richard  Bland,  the  Lees,  Patrick  Henry,  George 
Mason,  Pendleton,  Nicholas,  Wythe,  and  Gary.  Edmund  Pendleton  was 
chosen  presiding  officer.  Business  was  expedited  during  the  first  few  days 
of  the  session,  and  on  the  i^th  the  convention  resolved  itself  into  com 
mittee  of  the  whole  on  the  state  of  the  country.  Mr.  Gary,  chairman  of  the 
committee  of  the  whole,  presented  resolutions  that  are  historical,  in  that  by 
them  Virginia  took  the  initiative  in  declaring  for  independence  from  Great 
Britain.  The  concluding  paragraph  of  the  resolutions  instructed  the  dele 
gates  in  Congress  "to  propose  to  that  body  to  declare  the  united  colonies 
free  and  independent  states,  absolved  from  all  allegiance  to  or  dependence 
on  the  crown  or  pailirmcnt  of  Great  Britain,  and  that  they  give  the  assent 
of  this  colony  to  such  declaration,  and  to  whatever  measures  maybe  thought 
proper  and  necessary  by  the  congress  for  forming  foreign  alliances,  and  a 


444  JAMES  MADISON. 

confederation  of  the  colonies.  "  In  the  absence  of  any  proof  to  the  contrary, 
it  is  believed  the  authorship  of  these  resolutions  rests  with  Edmund  Pen- 
dleton,  the  chairman  of  the  convention.  The  Virginia  delegates  in  Congress 
presented  these  resolutions  to  that  body  the  7th  of  June;  on  the  8th  and 
loth  they  were  discussed,  and  on  the  last  named  day  a  committee  was 
appointed  to  prepare  a  declaration  in  accordance  with  the  resolutions.  This 
was  subscribed  by  the  members  of  Congress  on  the  4th  of  July,  1776. 

Not  less  important  and  far  reaching  in  its  results  was  the  subsequent 
work  of  the  convention.  On  the  day  which  witnessed  the  instruction  to 
the  delegates  in  Congress,  was  taken  the  first  step  in  the  formation  of  anew 
state  government.  A  committee,  consisting  of  tAventy-eight  members,  was 
appointed  to  frame  a  "  declaration  of  rights  and  such  plan  of  government 
as  will  be  most  likely  to  maintain  peace  and  order  in  this  colony,  and  secure 
substantial  and  equal  liberty  to  the  people.''  This  committee  wras  com 
posed  of  the  ablest  men  of  an  exceptionally  able  convention,  Gary,  Nicho 
las,  Henry,  Bland,  Lee,  Blair,  and  others  being  among  the  more  prominent. 
The  clay  following  its  appointment,  James  Madison,  who  had  come  out  from 
behind  his  veil  of  modesty,  and  been  recognized  by  the  convention  as 
among  the  ablest  of  the  younger  members,  was  added  to  the  committee; 
and  the  day  after,  George  Mason,  \vho  was  to  become  the  great  leader  of 
the  committee  in  its  labors,  was  appointed  and  took  his  seat.  On  the  27th 
of  May  the  select  committee  reported  the  declaration  of  rights  to  the  con- 
venion,  which,  on  the  loth  of  June,  resolved  itself  into  committee  of  the 
whole,  for  discussion.  Twro  days  later  it  was  adopted  by  the  convention, 
after  some  slight  verbal  alterations,  and  has  stood  the  test  of  time,  not  a 
word  or  letter  having  been  altered,  although  since  that  time  the  state  of  Vir 
ginia  has  had  three  constitutions.  Some  of  its  leading  features  have  been 
incorporated  into  the  constitution  of  other  states,  and  into  amendments  to 
the  constitution  of  the  United  States.  The  name  of  George  Mason  deserves 
equal  fame  with  that  of  Thomas  Jefferson,  as  the  author  of  one  of  the  most 
important  state  papers  of  this  continent.  Among  the  verbal  changes  sug 
gested  was  that  relating  to  freedom  of  religious  opinions.  Mr.  Madison 
objected  to  the  use  of  the  word  "toleration"  in  the  declaration:  "All  men 
should,  therefore,  enjoy  the  fullest  toleration  in  the  exercise  of  religion, 
according  to  the  dictates  of  conscience,  unpunished  and  unrestrained  by  the 
magistrate,  unless,  under  color  of  religion  any  man  disturb  the  peace,  the 
happiness,  or  the  safety  of  society."  He  had  seen  much  of  the  intolerance 
of  toleration,  and  had  vowed  within  himself  to  do  what  lay  in  his  power  for 
the  relief  of  the  oppressed  sectaries.  Freedom  he  held,  should  imply  liberty 
of  conscience  as  well  as  liberty  of  action.  Feeling,  as  he  did,  his  presump 
tion  in  differing  from  men  so  much  older,  and  perhaps  wiser  than  himself, 
the  justice  of  his  cause  alone  sustained  him  in  presenting  it  to  the  con 
vention.  His  amendment  was,  in  substance,  accepted  by  the  convention, 


CHOSEN    DELEGATE    IN    VIRGINIA    CONVENTION.  445 

and  adopted  in  this  form:  "That  religion,  or  the  duty  we  owe  to  the 
Creator,  and  the  manner  of  discharging  it,  can  be  directed  only  by  reason 
and  conviction,  not  by  force  or  violence,  and,  therefore,  all  men  are  equally 
entitled  to  the  free  exercise  of  religion,  according  to  the  dictates  of  con 
science.  " 

Discussion  of  the  constitution  and  plan  of  government  was  continued 
until  the  27th  of  June,  when  it  was  adopted  in  full  convention.  In  its  con- 
M  ruction  it  was  by  no  means  perfect,  but  as  a  constitution  on  which  to  rear 
the  structure  of  a  state,  it  answered  the  purpose  for  the  time  being.  The 
constitution  had  but  just  been  adopted,  when  was  presented  to  the  conven 
tion  a  plan  prepared  by  Thomas  Jefferson,  and  forwarded  by  special  mes 
senger,  in  the  expectation  that  it  would  be  received  before  definite  action 
should  be  taken.  Its  late  arrival  prevented  its  consideration,  but  the  pre 
amble  prepared  by  Mr.  Jefferson  was  adopted. 

Immediately  after  the  adoption  of  the  constitution,  the  convention  pro 
ceeded  to  the  election  of  a  governor  and  council,  upon  whom  should  devolve 
administration  of  the  affairs  of  the  new  state.  Patrick  Henry  was  chosen 
governor.  Provision  was  then  made  for  military  defense,  for  the  election  of 
senators,  and  for  the  assembling  of  the  legislative  branch  of  government. 
The  convention  adjourned  the  5th  of  July,  to  meet  at  \\~illiamsburg  in  the 
following  October,  as  a  house  of  delegates,  to  serve  with  the  senate  as  the 
general  assembly  of  the  commonwealth  of  Virginia. 

On  the  7th  of  October,  177^,  convened  the  first  general  assembly  of 
the  state  of  Virginia.  As  a  member  of  the  convention  which  framed  the 
constitution  and  put  in  motion  the  wheels  of  the  new  government,  Mr. 
Madison  took  hi*  seat  in  that  body.  Here  he  first  met  Thomas  Jefferson, 
and  formed  that  intimate  acquaintance  which  continued  without  a  break 
during  the  lives  of  both.  Possessed  of  much  the  same  views  on  the  leading 
subjects  before  the  assembly,  and  before  the  Congress  of  the  colonies,  the}* 
were  not  long  strangers.  In  his  autobiography  Mr.  Jefferson  speaks  of  the 
young  legislator  in  the  following  terms:  "  Mr.  Madison  came  into  the  house 
in  1776,  a  new  member  and  young;  which  circumstances,  concurring  with 
his  extreme  modest}',  prevented  his  venturing  himself  in  debate  before  his 
removal  to  the  council  of  state  in  November,  1777.  From  thence  he  went 
to  Congress,  then  consisting  of  few  members.  Trained  in  these  successive 
schools,  he  acquired  a  habit  of  self-possession,  which  placed  at  read}'  com 
mand  the  rich  resources  of  his  luminous  and  discriminating  mind,  and  of  his 
extensive  information,  and  rendered  him  the  first  of  every  assembly  after 
wards  of  which  he  became  a  member.  Never  wandering  from  his  subject 
into  vain  declamation,  but  pursuing  it  closely  in  language  pure,  classical,  and 
copious,  soothing  always  the  feelings  of  his  adversaries  by  civilities  and 
softness  of  expression,  he  rose  to  the  eminent  station  which  he  held  in  the 
great  national  convention  of  1787  ;  and  in  that  of  Virginia,  which  followed, 


446  JAMES    MADISON. 

he  sustained  the  new  constitution  in  all  its  parts,  bearing  off  the  palm 
against  the  logic  of  George  Mason  and  the  fervid  declamation  of  Mr.  Henry. 
With  these  consummate  powers  was  united  a  pure  and  spotless  virtue,  which 
no  calumny  has  ever  attempted  to  sully." 

The  legislature  remained  in  session  three  months,  and  adjourned  Decem 
ber.  21  st.  At  that  time  its  meetings  were  semi-annual — in  May  and  Octo 
ber.  A  new  election  of  delegates  took  place  in  April,  1*777.  For  years  it 
had  been  the  custom  of  candidates  for  office  to  mingle  with  the  people  and 
spend  money  freely  in  "  treats."  A  candidate  who  refused  to  follow  this 
custom  was  usually  defeated.  Mr.  Madison  was  by  nature  diffident;  beside, 
he  was  opposed  to  the  perpetuation  of  such  a  system,  and  did  not 
take  the  course  calculated  to  continuance  in  office.  As  a  consequence, 
he  saw  two  men,  of  inferior  abilities,  elected  to  seats  in  the  legislature, 
while  he  was  left  in  private  life.  On  the  I3th  of  November  the  two  houses 
elected  him  member  of  the  council  of  state,  in  which  office  he  was  inti 
mately  associated  with  the  governor  and  a  number  of  the  most  influential 
men  of  the  state.  Here  his  duties  were  such  that  he  was  forced  into  over 
coming  his  habitual  diffidence,  and  was  thus  fitted  for  the  more  responsible 
stations  that  awaited  him  in  the  future.  He  acquired  a  habit  of  self-posses 
sion  and  ease  in  the  presentation  of  his  views,  that  was  of  great  value  to 
him  in  debate,  and  rendered  him  one  of  the  most  powerful  of  the  able  men 
then  in  the  halls  of  legislation,  both  state  and  national.  At  that  time  the 
only  one  among  the  executive  council  familiar  with  foreign  languages,  he 
was  an  invaluable  aid  to  Mr.  Henry  in  meeting  the  many  foreign  officers 
then  in  the  service  of  the  country. 

In  the  summer  of  1779  was  terminated  the  service  of  Mr.  Henry  as 
governor,  he  having  occupied  the  chair  of  executive  during  the  three  years 
limited  by  the  constitution.  He  was  succeeded  by  Thomas  Jefferson;  Mr. 
Madison  remained  a  member  of  the  executive  council  a  few  months  under 
his  administration,  when  he  was  elected  to  a  scat  in  Congress. 

On  the  I4th  of  December,  1779,  the  general  assembly  of  Virginia 
elected  four  delegates  to  the  continental  Congress.  She  had  limited  the 
number  to  five,  and  the  term  of  service  to  three  years.  One  member,  Mr. 
Cyrus  Griffin,  retained  his  seat  to  fill  an  unexpired  term.  The  persons 
elected  in  place  of  the  retiring  delegates  were  Joseph  Jones,  James  Henry, 
John  Walker,  and  James  Madison.  The  time  was  one  of  discouragement 
for  the  American  cause  ;  the  finances  of  the  country  were  at  a  low  ebb  ;  it 
required  forty  dollars  in  the  depreciated  paper  currency  of  the  confederation 
to  equal  in  value  one  dollar  in  silver  ;  the  time  of  service  of  many  of  the 
troops  was  about  expiring,  or  had  already  expired,  and  no  effective  force 
could  be  brought  forward  to  successfully  cope  with  the  lately  victorious 
enemy.  It  was  a  perplexing  question  where  to  turn  for  ways  and  means  of 
defense  and  offense,  but  the  question  must  be  met.  To  the  subjet  of  finance 


ELECTED    TO    CONGRESS.  447 

Mr.  Madison  devoted  much  study,  endeavoring  to  avoid  the  extremes  which 
had  wrecked  other  governments.  His  aim  was  to  establish  a  govern 
mental  credit  founded  on  the  basis  of  moral  and  legal  order,  justice,  and 
public  faith.  Congress  awoke  to  the  importance  of  renewed  action,  and 
measures  were  taken  to  increase  the  army  to  thirty-five  thousand  men  ;  the 
states  were  called  upon  to  raise  by  taxes  the  sum  of  six  millions  of  dollars 
in  silver  or  bills  redeemable  in  specie.  At  the  same  time  a  letter  was  dis 
patched  to  the  king  of  France  soliciting  a  loan,  and  pledging  the  faith  of 
the  United  States  for  its  payment. 

It  was  deemed  important  at  this  time  to  secure  the  active  co-operation 
of  Spain  in  an  effort  to  drive  British  men-of-war  from  the  coast,  thereby 
greatly  reducing  the  efficiency  of  their  land  forces.  In  the  negotiations  pend 
ing  with  Spain,  the  subject  of  the  right  of  the  United  States  to  the  unob 
structed  navigation  of  the  Mississippi  river  became  a  subject  -of  contention. 
Spain  denied  the  right  claimed  by  the  United  States,  and  a  long  corres 
pondence  followed.  Congress  passed  resolutions  instructing  the  commis 
sioners  who  were  conducting  the  negotiations  to  abate  nothing  of  their 
claims,  and  at  the  same  time  appointed  a  committee  consisting  of  Mr 
Madison,  Mr.  Sullivan,  of  New  Hampshire,  and  Mr.  Dunne,  of  New  York, 
to  indite  a  letter  to  the  ministers,  embodying  the  spirit  of  the  resolutions. 
On  Mr.  Madison  fell  the  duty  of  preparing  this  letter,  which  has  ever  been 
considered  among  the  ablest  documents  of  its  kind.  In  it  he  exhaustively 
considers  the  subject  in  all  its  bearings,  and  conclusively  shows  wherein  it 
would  be  as  impolitic  as  it  is  impossible  that  the  United  States  should  give 
up  all  right  to  this  great  artery  for  the  transportation  of  her  western  produce 
to  the  sea,  and  thence  to  foreign  markets. 

The  position  assumed  by  the  United  States  on  this  question  was 
eventually  modified,  and  left  for  future  settlement.  Not  until  near  the 
close  of  the  war  \va.«  Spain  induced  to  become  a  part}"  to  the  conflict,  and 
then  her  part  was  principally  that  of  self-aggrandizement.  Instead  of 
direct!}'  aiding  the  United  States,  she  was  the  means  of  diverting  certain 
troops  and  munitions  of  war  from  America,  by  engaging  with  France  in  an 
attempt  to  conquer  some  portion  of  England's  possessions  in  the  Mediter 
ranean.  Spain  having  espoused  the  cause  of  France  and  the  colonies  as 
against  Great  Britain,  Russia  and  .Austria  became  fearful  of  a  general 
European  war,  and  proffered  their  services  as  mediators.  Owing,  however, 
to  the  non-concilatory  policy  of  England,  no  progress  was  made  in 
these  efforts.  During  the  earl}-  winter  of  1782,  appeared  a  change  in  the 
tone  of  the  British  ministry,  and  a  resolution  "against  the  further  prose 
cution  of  offensive  war  on  the  continent  of  North  America,  "  was  carried 
in  the  house  of  commons,  February  2~th.  Soon  thereafter  a  bill  was  intro 
duced  "to  enable  his  majesty  to  conclude  a  truce  or  peace  with  the  revolted 
colonies  of  America."  One  of  the  most  important  provisions  in  the  pre- 


44*'  JAMES    MADISON. 

liminary  articles  was  that  relating  to  the  fisheries,  and  to  this  subject  Mr. 
Madison  devoted  much  care  and  labor  ;  to  him  in  no  small  degree  belongs 
credit  for  placing  our  fisheries  on  a  par  with  those  of  the  North  American 
provinces  of  Great  Britain.  He  was  an  active  member  of  every  committee 
appointed  to  report  at  various  stages  of  the  subject,  and  many,  if  not  all  the 
reports,  emanated  from  his  pen.  The  preliminaries  for  a  general  peace  were 
signed  at  Paris,  January  2Oth,  1783,  but  the  news  did  not  reach  Congress 
until  March  23d,  and  it  was  not  until  some  time  later  that  the  treaty  was 
ratified.  In  the  many  great  public  measures  that  were  brought  forward  dur 
ing  the  consideration  of  terms  of  peace,  until  the  spring  of  1783,  Mr.  Madi 
son  took  an  active  part  In  the  formation  of  an  efficient  system  of  revenue 
and  finance  he  was  prominently  engaged;  in  the  settlement  of  terms  by 
which  Virginia  ceded  .to  the  government  the  territory  west,  of  the  Allegha- 
nies  and  north  of  the  Ohio,  now  forming  five  states,  he  was  an  active  partici 
pant  ;  in  all  matters  of  public  weal  he  was  among  the  foremost. 

The  laws  of  Virginia  provided  that  a  delegate  should  not  serve  in  Con 
gress  more  than  three  consecutive  years,  and  should  then  be  disqualified 
from  holding  the  same  office  during  a  further  period  of  three  years.  The 
original  term  for  which  Mr.  Madison  was  elected  expired  in  the  autumn  of 
1782.  In  May  of  that  year  the  legislature  repealed  the  law  in  order  that 
his  invaluable  services  might  be  longer  retained,  and  he  was  elected  to  serve 
one  year  more.  In  the  fall  of  1783  he  necessarily  retired,  having,  during 
his  entire  service  of  four  years,  rarely  been  absent  from  his  post,  and  when 
such  absence  was  necessary,  for  as  short  a  time  as  possible.  During  the 
later  years  of  the  war,  very  many  members  of  the  Congress  were  much  of 
the  time  absent  from  their  duties,  and  there  was  the  more  need  that  he 
should  remain  at  his  post. 


SECOND    TERM    IN    THE    LEGISLATURE.  449 


CHAPTER  III. 

A  SECOND  TERM  OF  SERVICE  IN  THE  LEGISLATURE. 

AFTKR  spending  some  weeks  in  Philadelphia,  Mr.  Madison  returned  to 
Montpclicr.  lie  had  come  to  feel  the  need  of  an  understanding  of 
the  law,  and  after  renewing  acquaintance  with  his  neighbors,  began  reading 
legal  works.  This  study  he  continued,  with  some  interruptions,  for  several 
years.  He  was  then  thirty-two  years  of  age,  with  settled  habits,  and  a  good 
degree  of  health.  In  intervals  of  his  studies,  which  were  pursued  without  a 
master,  he  carried  on  a  friendly  correspondence  with  the  Marquis  de 
Lafayette,  and  with  Thomas  Jefferson,  who  was  his'  successor,  as  he  had 
been  his  predecessor  in  Congress.  His  home  in  the  county  oi  Orange  was 
but  thirty  miles  distant  from  Monticcllo,  near  which  place  was  also  the  resi 
dence  of  James  Monroe,  then  a  rising  young  man,  a  student  at  law  with 
Mr.  Jefferson.  Never  did  Mr.  Madison  make  professional  use  of  his 
knowledge  of  law,  but  in  the  discussion  of  state  and  international  questions 
in  after  life  it  proved  invaluable. 

In  April,  17^4,  eight  years  after  his  first  service  in  the  legislature  of  his 
native  state,  he  was  again  elected  by  his  county,  to  a  scat  in  the  general 
assembly.  Among  his  associates  were  Patrick  Henry,  the  late  governor  of 
the  state;  Richard  Henry  Lee,  who  had  retired  from  Congress  in  1/79; 
John  Marshall,  afterward  chief  justice  of  the  United  States;  Spencer  Roane, 
afterward  president  of  the  Virginia  court  of  appeals  ;  Henry  Tazewell, 
William  Grayson,  John  Taylor,  and  William  Care}'  Nicholas,  future  scna- 
ators  of  the  United  States;  John  Breckenridge,  future  attorney-general  of 
the  United  States  ;  Joseph  Jones,  late  of  the  Congress;  and  Hraxton,  Tyler, 
Stuart,  Ronald,  Thruston,  Corbin,  and  Page,  mostly  young  men  of  unques 
tioned  ability.  Mr.  Henry  and  Mr.  Lee  were  the  acknowledged  leaders  in 
the  house,  as  they  were  the  seniors  of  their  fellow-members. 

At  the  organization  of  the   house   he  was   placed  on  several  important 
committees,    being  assigned   the   chairmanship  of  the  committee   of  com- 


450  JAMES    MADISON. 

mercc  in  which  he  was  instrumental  in  the  passage  of  measures  for  the 
protection  of  the  interests  of  the  planters  of  Virginia.  He  favored  the 
concentration  of  the  export  and  import  trade  at  one  or  two  ports.  The 
agents  of  British  merchants  had  been  accustomed  to  trade  directly  with  pro 
ducers  along  the  rivers,  purchasing  products  at  a  low  price  and  charging 
exorbitant  rates  for  all  goods  they  sold.  As  England  would  not  allow  of 
free  trade  with  her  West  India  possessions  it  was  considered  desirable  that 
her  trade  with  the  states  be  curtailed.  With  this  end  in  view  an  act  was 
finally  passed  restraining  all  foreign  vessels  from  indiscriminate  trading,  and 
limiting  them  to  certain  ports.  Strong  efforts  were  made  to  concentrate  all 
foreign  trade  at  two  ports,  but  in  order  to  the  passage  of  the  act  concession 
was  made,  allowing  of  five  ports  of  entry — Norfolk,  Alexandria,  York, 
Tappahannock,  and  Bermuda  Hundred.  At  subsequent  sessions  of  the 
legislature  efforts  were  made  to  repeal  the  act,  which,  though  not  successful, 
caused  the  addition  of  other  ports  of  entry,  thus  dividing  the  trade  of  the 
country,  and  tending  to  reduce  the  value  of  its  products.  At  this  time,  few 
vessels  other  than  those  sailing  under  the  British  flag,  touched  at  Virginia 
ports,  while  in  the  leading  ports  of  the  country — Boston,  New  York,  Phila 
delphia,  and  Baltimore — vessels  of  all  nations  wrere  constant  traders.  In  the 
Philadelphia  market,  tobacco,  the  staple  product  of  Virginia,  commanded 
twenty  cents  more  than  at  ports  in  the  state  wherein  it  was  raised.  The 
far-seeing  Madison  wras  strongly  opposed  by  local  considerations,  and  it  was 
only  by  sustained  effort  that  the  measure  remained  on  the  statute  book. 

In  connection  with  port  regulation,  came  up  the  subject  of  the  bound 
ary  between  Virginia  and  Maryland.  The  charter  to  Lord  Baltimore  defined 
the  boundary  of  his  land  as  the  southern  shore  of  the  Potomac  river,  and 
in  the  constitution  of  1776,  Virginia  had  released  to  Maryland  all  land  com 
prised  in  her  charter.  This  might  lead  to  a  conflict  of  interests  in  the 
enforcement  of  commercial  restrictions.  Mr..  Madison  early  saw  the  result 
to  be  apprehended,  and  wrote  Mr.  Jefferson,  then  a  delegate  in  Congress,  to 
obtain  an  expression  of  the  opinion  of  the  Maryland  delegates  in  reference 
to  the  subject.  He  claimed  Virginia  had  not  given  exclusive  control  of  the 
river  to  Maryland,  but  demanded  the  right  of  legislation  over  and  occupancy 
of  that  half  bordering  her  shore.  By  priority  of  title,  under  the  original  patent 
Virginia  was  entitled  to  control  the  entire  river  adjoining  the  northern  neck. 
In  order  to  definite  action  he  introduced  a  resolution,  on  the  28th  of  June, 
providing  for  the  appointment  of  four  commissioners,  to  meet  an  equal 
number  of  commissioners  to  be  appointed  by  the  state  ©f  Maryland,  and 
take  into  consideration  such  measures  concerning  the  control  of  the  river  as 
would  be  advantageous  to  the  two  states,  and  make  report  thereon  to  the 
general  assembly.  This  joint  commission  met  at  Mount  Vernon,  March 
28,  1785,  and  prepared  a  report  to  be  submitted  to  the  respective  state  legis 
latures  for  the  definite  adjustment  of  jurisdiction  over  Chesapeake  bay  and 


SliCONP    .FEKM    1A     ihiL    I-FAji^Al  Cttn.  45! 

the  Potomac  river.  The  discussion  of  this  subject  brought  up  another — 
the  system  of  duties  on  imports  and  exports,  and  uniform  regulations  in 
commerce  and  currency.  A  supplementary  report  was  adopted  in  com 
mittee,  recommending  legislation  to  these  ends.  The  recommendation  was 
first  acted  upon  by  Maryland,  and  by  her  legislature  \vas  commended  to  the 
consideration  of  the  general  assemblies  of  Pennsylvania  and  Delaware. 

Mr.  Madison  had  been  one  of  the  commissioners  on  behalf  of  Virginia, 
and  the  action  of  the  legislature  of  Maryland  in  the  premises  becoming 
known  to  him,  he  was  encouraged  in  the  belief  that  concert  of  action 
among  the  several  states  might,  at  that  stage,  be  agreed  upon.  He  had 
long  desired  to  have  Congress  invested  with  more  authority  in  the  gov 
ernment  of  the  confederation,  and  had  previously  made  efforts  to  that  end  ; 
in  consequence,  he  was  regarded  in  an  unfavorable  light  by  some  members 
of  the  state  legislature,  when  matters  relating  to  the  powers  of  Congress 
came  before  that  body.  To  avoid  this,  having  prepared  a  suitable  resolu 
tion,  he  prevailed  upon  his  colleague,  Mr.  Tyler,  to  present  it  to  the  house. 
Near  the  close  of  the  session  it  was  taken  up,  and  was  passed  the  2ist  of 
January,  1786.  The  resolution  provided  for  the  appointment  of  delegates 
from  each  of  the  states,  to  meet  at  a  time  and  place  to  be  agreed  upon,  "in 
order  to  take  into  consideration  the  trade  of  the  United  States  ;  to  examine 
the  relative  situation  and  trade  of  the  said  states  ;  to  consider  IK  w  far  a 
uniform  system  in  their  commercial  regulations  may  be  necessary  to  their 
common  interest  and  permanent  harmony  ;  and  to  report  to  the  several 
states  such  an  act,  relative  to  this  great  object,  as,  when  unanimously  rati 
fied  by  them,  will  enable  the  United  States  in  Congress  effectually  to  pro 
vide  for  the  same. "  The  commissioners  first  named  were  Kdnumd  Ran 
dolph,  Dr.  Walter  Jones,  James  Madison,  St.  George  Tucker,  and  Men 
u-ether  Smith.  The  Senate  added  the  names  of  Colonel  Mason  and  David 
Ross.  This  movement  eventually  led  to  the  holding  of  the  convention  that 
framed  the  Constitution. 

.Among  the  early  measures  taken  by  the  legislature,  was  the  appoint 
ment,  in  1770",  of  a  commission  of  five  members,  for  the  purpose  of  a  com 
plete  revisal  of  the  common  law  of  the  state.  The  labor  of  revision  fell 
upon  Mr.  Jefferson,  Mr.  Pendleton,  and  Mr.  Wythe,  and  resulted  in  the 
compilation  of  one  hundred  and  twenty-six  bills.  Of  these  a  fe\v  were 
brought  before  the  house  from  time  to  time,  and  passed  as  the  need  for  the 
regulation  they  covered  became  pressing  ;  by  far  the  greater  portion  was 
withheld  for  the  time,  owing  to  accumulation  of  other  business.  In  the 
passage  of  these  bills  Mr.  Madison  took  a  leading  part,  and  deeming  it 
advisable  that  the  people  should  understand  their  provisions,  he  introduced 
a  resolution  causing  a  limited  number  of  copies  in  be  printed  ar.d  circulated 
in  every  count}'  in  the  state.  Further  prosecution  of  the  work  was  deferred 
until  the  next  meeting  of  the  legislature 


452  JAMES    MADISON. 

During  this  session  of  the  legislature  numerous  petitions  were  received 
alleging  a  decline  in  public  morals,  and  soliciting  a  general  system  of  taxation 
to  provide  for  the  settlement  of  religious  teachers,  all  of  which  was  in  the 
interest  of  the  Episcopal  form  of  religion.  Petitions  were  also  received 
from  dissenters — Baptists  and  Presbyterians,  asking  that  ' '  religious  freedom 
be  established  upon  the  broad  basis  of  perfect  political  equality  ;  "  the  Episco 
pal  church  asked  for  the  repeal  of  all  laws  which  interfered  with  their  power 
of  self-government.  The  committee  of  religion  reported,  favoring  the  incor 
poration  of  the  Episcopal  and  Presbyterian  churches,  and  such  other  denom 
inations  as  should  apply  for  incorporation.  However,  a  bill  for  the  incor 
poration  of  the  Episcopal  church  was  the  only  one  brought  in,  and  it  was 
left  over  until  the  ensuing  session.  In  October  it  was  again  taken  up  and 
championed  by  Mr.  Henry,  who  claimed  that  a  direct  tax  for  the  support 
of  religion  should  be  paid  by  the  people  of  the  state,  and  a  resolution  of 
that  import  passed  the  House.  Even  the  Presbyterian  church,  so  long 
accustomed  to  Episcopal  supremacy,  favored  the  passage  of  a  law  for  the 
support  of  religion.  Mr.  Madison  stood  almost  alone  in  opposition  ;  he 
had  studied  the  effect  of  the  bill  in  all  its  bearings,  and  had  witnessed  the 
oppression  already  practiced  upon  the  less  influential  sects  in  some  of  the 
counties. 

During  the  same  legislative  session  a  resolution  had  been  passed  by  a 
large  majority,  in  favor  of  the  "  incorporation  of  all  societies  of  the  Chris 
tian  religion  which  may  apply  for  the  same."  A  bill  was  brought  in  for  the 
incorporation  of  "the  clergy  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  church."  This 
was  afterward  amended  to  include  the  laity.  Mr.  Madison  was  opposed  to 
it,  but  gave  it  his  vote,  deeming  that  the  best  manner  in  which  to  defeat  the 
more  objectionable  measure  proposed.  On  the  day  of  its  passage  the  bill 
"establishing  a  provision  for  teachers  of  the  Christian  religion,"  was  con 
sidered  in  committee  of  the  whole.  After  three  days'  discussion,  further 
action  was  postponed  until  the  fourth  Thursday  in  the  following  November, 
which  carried  it  one  day  beyond  the  limit  of  the  current  term  of  the  legis 
lature.  The  bill  was  ordered  printed,  and  copies  were  sent  to  all  parts  of 
the  commonwealth  in  order  to  obtain  an  expression  of  the  opinion  of  the 
people.  This  was  an  opportunity  which  was  improved  by  Mr.  Madison 
with  zeal  and  eloquence,  and  the  copies  were  returned  to  the  legislature 
with  long  lists  of  names  registered  in  opposition.  The  bill  was  effectually 
disposed  of,  and  taxation  in  support  of  religious  societies  was  never  again 
considered. 


MEMBER    OF    CONGRESS.  453 


CHAPTER  IV. 

MEMBER  OF  CONGRESS  AND  OF  THE  CONSTITUTIONAL  CONVENTION. 

Til  1C  earlier  part  of  the  legislative  vacation  in  the  spring  and  summer  of 
1785,  was  devoted  by  Mr.  Madison  to  a  continuation  of  his  law 
studies,  and  later  was  relieved  by  a  few  \\eeks  of  travel  in  the  North,  during 
which  lie  visited  Philadelphia  and  New  York.  The  preceding  summer  he 
had  passed  in  the  western  woods;  this  year  he  had  received  a  pressing  invita 
tion  from  Mr.  Jefferson,  to  spend  a  few  months  with  him  in  Paris,  but  various 
reasons  prevented  this,  chief  among  which  was  the  break  it  would  produce 
in  his  law  studies;  besides,  the  time  was  too  limited  for  such  a  trip  as  he 
would  wish  to  take.  During  this  year  he  received  the  compliment  of  the 
degree  of  doctor  of  laws  from  the  college  of  William  andMary — an  honor 
as  deserved  as  it  was  unsought.  His  correspondence  with  various  friends 
was  continued,  and  the  proceedings  in  Congress  were  carefully  noted. 

The  next  session  of  the  legislature  convened  the  l/th  of  October,  1/85. 
To  Mr.  Madison  was  again  assigned  the  chairmanship  of  the  commitee  on 
courts  of  justice  ;  but  the  regulation  of  commerce  demanded  immediate 
action.  Petitions  were  received  from  various  quarters  soliciting  relief;  it 
was  claimed  that  the  course  of  Kngland  in  permitting  none  but  British  ves 
sels  the  privilege  of  trade  with  the  West  Indies,  had  done  much  to  injure 
the  American  merchant  marine  ;  no  vessels  were  building,  and  even  the 
coastwise  trade  was  in  the  hands  of  foreigners.  The  subject  was  discussed 
in  committee  of  the  whole.  Mr.  Madison  leading  in  the  debate,  and  deliver 
ing  a  speech  of  great  power,  in  which  he  indicated  what  seemed  to  him  the 
proper  course  to  pursue.  A  resolution  was  adopted  declaring  that  "an  act 
ought  to  pass  to  authorize  the  delegates  of  this  state  in  Congress  to  give  the 
assent  of  the  state  to  a  general  regulation  of  the  commerce  of  the  United 
States,  under  certain  qualifications."  A  supplemental'}'  resolution  was  then 
adopted,  instructing  the  delegates  in  Congress  to  propose  such  recommenda 
tions  as  would  comply  with  the  spirit  of  the  foregoing  resolution.  After 


454  JAMES    MADISON. 

discussion  this  was  amended,  limiting  to  a  period  of  thirteen  years  such 
commercial  restrictions  as  were  deemed  necessary.  This  destroyed  the 
force  of  the  resolution,  and  it  was  allowed  to  remain  on  the  table. 

The  proposition  for  a  general  convention  to  frame  a  constitution  and 
erect  a  permanent  form  of  government,  originated  in  New  York  in  July, 
1782,  and  was  again  proposed  by  Massachusetts  in  1785  ;  neither  of  these 
propositions,  however,  was  productive  of  the  effect  sought.  It  fell  to  Vir 
ginia,  and  to  her  eminent  statesman,  James  Madison,  to  take  the  initiative. 
This  was  done  in  the  presentation  of  a  resolution,  through  his  friend  Mr. 
Tyler,  which  was  then  furthered  in  a  well  considered  speech  by  its  author. 
A  committee  of  seven  was  appointed,  with  Edmund  Pendleton  as  chairman. 
The  other  members  were  Dr.  Walter  Jones,  James  Madison,  St.  George 
Tucker,  Meriwether  Smith,  David  Ross,  and  Mr.  Ronald.  The  latter 
declined  to  serve,  leaving  the  delegation  to  consist  of  six  members.  Of  the 
states  in  the  confederation,  but  nine  appointed  delegates  ;  and  of  these,  five 
only  were  represented  in  the  convention  that  assembled  in  Annapolis,  Sep 
tember  u,  1786.  Delegates  were  present  from  Virginia,  Delaware,  Penn 
sylvania,  New  York,  and  New  Jersey.  Under  these  circumstances  it  was 
deemed  inexpedient  to  proceed,  and  a  resolution  was  adopted  expressing  the 
wish  that  "  speedy  measures  may  be  taken  to  effect  a  general  meeting  of 
the  states  in  a  future  convention  for  the  same  and  such  other  purposes  as 
the  condition  oi  public  affairs  may  be  found  to  require."  It  was  suggested 
that  delegates  be  again  appointed,  and  that  another  general  convention  be 
held  at  Philadelphia  in  the  following  May. 

On  the  4th  of  December  following,  the  Virginia  legislature  appointed 
a  second  committee,  consisting  of  George  Washington,  Patrick  Henry, 
Edmund  Randolph,  John  Blair,  James  Madison,  and  George  Wythe.  Mr. 
Henry  declined  to  serve,  and  Dr.  James  McClurg  was  appointed  in  his 
stead.  The  second  convention  having  for  its  object  a  revisal  of  the  articles  of 
confederation,  met  in  Philadelphia  May  9,  1787.  The  obstacles  to  be  over 
come  in  accomplishing  this  work  were  many,  and  comprised  chartered 
rights  ;  state  sovereignties  ;  the  rights  of  corporate  companies  ;  collisions 
of  interests  ;  differences  regarding  boundaries;  beside  many  other  points 
that  occurred  to  delegates  and  were  brought  forward  for  discussion.  It  is 
doubtful  if  any  other  plan  of  union  than  that  then  existing,  had  at  the  time 
been  entertained.  When  a  change  was  first  suggested  in  the  convention,  it 
was  considered  preposterous,  the  greater  number  of  the  delegates  adhering 
to  the  original  plan  of  a  simple  revision  of  the  existing  articles  of  confed 
eration.  Gradually  the  idea  of  a  more  definite  and  comprehensive  union 
gained  adherents,  and  before  the  close  of  the  four  months'  deliberation,  was 
definitely  decided  upon,  and  a  rough  draft  of  the  articles  was  prepared. 
Report  was  then  made  before  the  convention,  and  a  committee  of  five,  of 
which  Mr.  Madison  was  one,  was  appointed  to  arrange  and  revise  the 


MEMBER    OF    THE    CONSTITUTIONAL   CONVENTION.  455 

articles.  This  being  concluded  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  convention,  and 
the  form  thus  prepared  adopted,  the  committee  was  continued  and  instructed 
to  prepare  an  address  to  the  people. 

Immediately  following  the  acceptance  of  the  Constitution  by  the  con 
vention,  a  resolution  passed  for  laying  it  before  Congress.  Mr.  Madison, 
who  was  a  member  of  Congress  as  well  as  of  the  convention,  arrived  in 
New  York  September  24th,  a  few  days  after  the  proposed  constitution  had 
been  delivered  to  that  body.  He  found  some  of  its  articles  had  been  criti 
cized  by  Richard  Henry  Lee,  of  Virginia,  and  Nathan  Deane,  of  Massa 
chusetts,  who  declared  that  the  new  constitution  should  not  be  submitted  to 
the  people  by  the  body  that  had  derived  its  existence  from  the  present  con 
stitution  of  federation.  Mr.  Madison  was  equal  to  the  occasion,  and 
reminded  Congress  that  it  had  recommended  the  convention  as  a  proper 
means  for  obtaining  "  a  firm,  national  government,"  and  that  it  ill  became 
members  to  propose  captious  objections  to  the  carrying 'forward  of  a  plan 
they  had  themselves  endorsed.  The  difficulties  encountered  in  the  hall  of 
Congress  were  overcome,  and  on  the  28th  the  following  resolution  was 
adopted:  "  Congress  having  received  the  report  of  the  convention  lately 
assembled  in  Philadelphia,  resolve  unanimously  that  the  said  report,  with 
the  resolutions  and  letter  accompanying  the  same,  be  transmitted  to  the 
several  legislatures,  in  order  to  be  submitted  to  a  convention  of  delegates 

«"*  o 

chosen  in  each  state  by  the  people  thereof,  in  conformity  to  the  resolves  of 
the  convention  made  and  provided  in  that  case."  This  result  was  undoubt 
edly  due,  in  great  measure,  to  the  influence  of  Mr.  Madison.  The  Con 
stitution  was  then  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  people,  where  its  merits  and 
demerits  were  fully  and  impartially  discussed. 

During  the  months  that  followed,  Mr.  Madison,  Mr.  Hamilton,  and 
Mr.  Jny  contributed  to  tin1  Federalist  a  series  of  essays  explanatory  of  the 
principles  of  government,  discussing  every  phase  that  could  in  any  manner 
or  by  any  possibility  affect  the  Constitution,  or  be  affected  by  it.  The 
collection  comprised  eighty-five  essays,  of  which  number  it  is  known  Mr. 
Madison  wrote  twenty-nine,  while  Mr.  Hamilton  was  the  author  of  the 
greater  part  of  the  remainder. 

On  the  1st  of  October,  1787,  the  board  of  trustees  and  faculty  of 
Princeton  college  conferred  on  Mr.  Madison  the  degree  of  doctor  of  laws. 
In  forwarding  him  the  diploma  a  few  weeks  later,  Dr.  Witherspoon  thus 
addressed  him  : 

"SiK, — The  diploma  for  the  degree  of  doctor  of  laws,  which  the  trus 
tees  and  faculty  of  this  college  did  themselves  the  honor  of  conferring  on 
you  last  commencement,  ought  to  have  been  sent  long  ago  but,  as  there 
are  no  printed  forms  for  the  honorary  degree,  we  often  find  it  difficult  to 
get  them  properly  executed.  This  occasioned  a  little  delay,  which  has  been 
protracted  to  a  very  blamable  length.  It  now  accompanies  this  letter;  and 


456  JAMES    MADISON. 

I  hope  you  will  have  no  difficulty  in  believing  that  all  concerned  in  this 
college  were  not  barely  willing,  but  proud  of  the  opportunity  of  paying 
jome  attention  to,  and  giving  testimony  of  their  approbation  of,  one  of 
their  own  sons  who  has  done  them  so  much  honor  by  his  public  conduct. 
And,  as  it  has  been  my  peculiar  happiness  to  know,  perhaps  more  than 
any  of  them,  your  usefulness  in  an  important  station,  on  that  and  some 
other  accounts,  there  was  none  to  whom  it  gave  more  satisfaction." 

The  legislature  of  Delaware  was  first  to  ratify  the  Constitution,  which 
it  did  by  an  unanimous  vote  December  7,  1787.  Pennsylvania,  by  a 
vote  of  forty-six  to  twenty-three,  did  the  same  on  the  I2th  of  December, 
and  on  the  iSth  New  Jersey  gave  her  assent  without  an  opposing  vote.  On 
the  2d  of  January  following,  Georgia  wheeled  into  line  with  unanimity,  and 
one  week  later  Connecticut  subscribed  to  the  Constitution  by  a  vote  of  one 
hundred  and  twenty-eight  to  forty.  Thus  far  no  serious  opposition  had  been 
encountered,  but  the  assembling  of  the  convention  of  Massachusetts  January 
pth,  produced  a  check  to  further  progress,  and  it  required  four  weeks  of  dis 
cussion,  followed  by  the  adoption  of  a  proposition  for  amendment  to  accom 
pany  the  Constitution,  before  it  was  ratified,  by  a  majority  of  but  nineteen 
in  a  body  of  three  hundred  and  forty-five  members  present.  The  New 
Hampshire  convention  next  met,  February  ipth.  So  intense  a  degree  of 
opposition  was  here  met  that  the  friends  of  the  movement  deemed  it  best 
to  adjourn  until  the  third  Wednesday  in  June,  in  order  to  allow  of  further 
informing  the  people  regarding  the  provisions  of  the  Constitution.  The 
convention  of  Maryland  assembled  April  2ist,  and  seven  days  later  voted 
for  ratification,  sixty-three  votes  being  given  in  its  favor  as  against  eleven 
opposed.  The  South  Carolina  convention  was  in  session  twelve  days,  and 
ratified  the  Constitution  by  a  vote  of  one  hundred  and  forty  ayes  to  sev 
enty-three  nays.  Eight  states  had  now  signified  their  assent  to  the  adop 
tion  of  the  Constitution,  while  the  ratification  of  nine  states  was  required 
before  its  establishment  among  the  number  thus  acting. 

Throughout  this  period  Mr.  Madison  had  kept  up  a  continuous  corres 
pondence  with  leading  men  in  each  of  the  states,  in  which  he  had  learned 
the  probable  amount  of  opposition  that  would  be  encountered,  and  had 
given  advice  and  encouragement  to  pursue  unflinchingly  a  consistent  course 
in  urging  the  adoption  of  the  Constitution.  Virginia  was  the  ninth  state  in 
order,  to  consider  the  claims  of  the  Constitution  in  convention,  and  from  the 
information  he  possessed  of  the  opposition  to  be  there  encountered,  and  the 
character  and  standing  of  its  opponents,  he  felt  that  the  issue  was  in  doubt. 
Two  of  the  delegates  from  Virginia,  Colonel  Mason  and  Governor  Ran 
dolph,  had  refused  to  sign  the  Constitution  in  the  general  convention,  while 
Richard  Henry  Lee  had  been  prompt  in  his  opposition  in  Congress. 
General  Washington,  who  had  served  as  presiding  officer  in  the  convention, 
and  was  himself  in  favor  of  the  Constitution,  had  sent  copies  of  it  to  Patrick 


MEMBER    OE    THE    CONSTITUTIONAL    CONVENTION.  457 

Henry,  General  Thomas  Nelson,  and  Colonel  Benjamin  Harrison.  Each 
responded  with  expressions  of  personal  esteem,  but  of  aversion  to  the  pro 
posed  change. 

Against  this  powerful  opposition  were  arrayed  General  Washington, 
James  Madison,  Mr.  Blair,  George  \Vythe,  Edmund  Pendleton,  and  some 
others  of  less  prominence.  The  general  assembly  met  at  Richmond,  Octo 
ber  15,  1/87,  and  during  the  session  settled  upon  Monday,  the  2d  day  of 
June,  1/88,  for  the  assembling  of  the  convention.  Throughout  the  session 
the  subject  of  ratification  of  the  Constitution  was  uppermost  in  the  thoughts 
of  all.  Though  absent  in  Congress,  Mr.  Madison  was  kept  so  fully  informed 
of  the  condition  of  affairs  as  to  be  able  to  take  a  comprehensive  view  of  the 
field  of  public  opinion  there  as  elsewhere.  The'  following  letter  addressed 
to  Mr.  Jefferson,  then  in  Paris,  under  date  December  9,  1787,  gives  his  view 
of  the  situation  at  that  time  : 

"  The  Constitution  proposed  by  the  late  c  onvention  engrosses  almost 
the  whole  political  attention  of  America.  All  the  legislatures,  except  that 
of  Rhode  Island,  which  have  been  assembled,  have  agreed  in  submitting  it 
to  state  conventions.  Virginia  has  set  the  example  of  opening  a  door  for 
amendments,  if  the  convention  should  choose  to  propose  them.  Man-land 
has  copied  it.  The  states  which  preceded  referred  the  Constitution,  as  rec 
ommended  by  the  general  convention,  to  be  ratified  or  rejected  as  it 

stands The    body  of   the  people  in   Virginia — particularly  in 

the  upper  and  lower  country,  and  in  the  northern  neck — are,  as  far  as  I  can 
gather,  much  disposed  to  adopt  the  new  Constitution.  The  middle  country 
and  the  south  side  of  James  river  are  principally  in  the  opposition  to  it. 
As  yet  a  large  majority  of  the  people  are  under  the  first  description  ;  as 
also,  are  a  majority  of  the  assembly.  What  change  may  be  produced  by 
the  united  influence  of  Mr.  Henry,  Mr.  Mason,  and  the  governor,  with 
some  pretty  able  auxiliaries,  is  uncertain.  My  information  leads  me  to  sup 
pose  there  must  be  three  parties  in  Virginia.  The  first,  for  adopting, 
without  attempting  amendments.  This  includes  General  Washington,  and 
the  other  deputies  who  signed  the  Constitution  ;  Mr.  Pendleton,  Mr.  Mar 
shall,  I  believe  ;  Mr.  Nicholas,  Mr.  Corbin,  Mr.  Zachariah  Johnson,  Col 
onel  Innes,  Mr.  Beverly  Randolph,  I  understand;  Mr.  Harvie,  Mr.  Gabriel 
Jones,  Dr.  Walter  Jones,  etc.  At  the  head  of  the  second  part}*,  which 
urges  amendments,  are  the  governor  and  Mr.  Mason.  These  do  not  object 
to  the  substance  of  the  government,  but  contend  for  a  few  additional  guards 
in  favor  of  the  rights  of  the  states  and  the  people.  I  am  not  able  to  enu 
merate  the  characters  who  fall  in  with  their  ideas,  as  distinguished  from  the 
third  class,  at  the  head  of  which  is  Mr.  Henry.  This  class  concurs,  at 
present,  with  the  patrons  of  amendments  ;  but  will  contend  for  such  as  strike 
at  the  essence  of  the  system,  and  must  lead  to  an  adherence  to  the  princi 
ple  of  the  existing  confederation, — which  most  thinking  men  are  convinced 


458  JAMES    MADISON. 

is  a  visionary  one, — or  to  a  partition  of  the  Union  into  several  confederacies. 
Mr.  Harrison,  the  late  governor,  is  with  Mr.  Henry.  The  general  and 
admiralty  courts,  with  most  of  the  bar,  oppose  the  Constitution  ;  but  on 
what  particular  grounds  I  am  unable  to  say.  General  Nelson,  Mr.  John 
Page,  Colonel  Bland,  etc.,  are  also  opponents;  but  on  what  principles,  or 
to  what  extent,  I  am  equally  at  a  loss  to  say.  In  general,  I  must  note  that 
I  speak,  with  respect  to  many  of  them,  from  information  that  may  not  be 
accurate,  and  merely  as  I  should  do  in  a  free  and  confidential  conversation 
with  you.  ....  Mr.  Henry  is  the  great  adversary  who  will 
render  the  event  precarious.  He  is,  I  find,  with  his  usual  address,  working 
up  every  possible  interest  into  a  spirit  of  opposition. 

"  It  is  worthy  of  remark,  that,  whilst  in  Virginia  and  some  of  the 
other  states  in  the  middle  and  southern  districts  of  the  Union,  the  men  of 
intelligence,  patriotism,  property,  and  independent  circumstances  are  thus 
divided,  all  of  this  description,  with  a  few  exceptions,  in  the  eastern  states 
and  most  of  the  middle  states,  are  zealously  attached  to  the  proposed  Con 
stitution.  .  .  .  .  It  is  not  less  worthy  of  remark,  that  in  Vir 
ginia,  where  the  mass  of  the  people  have  been  so  much  accustomed  to  be 
guided  by  their  rulers  on  all  new  and  intricate  questions,  they  should  on 
the  present,  which  certainly  surpasses  the  judgment  of  the  greater  part  of 
them,  not  only  go  before,  but  contrary  to,  their  most  popular  leaders;  and 
the  phenomenon  is  the  more  wonderful,  as  a  popular  ground  is  taken  by  all 
the  adversaries  of  the  new7  Constitution.  Perhaps  the  solution  in  both  these 
cases  would  not  be  very  difficult ;  but  it  would  lead  to  observations  too  dif 
fusive,  and  to  you  unnecessary.  I  will  barely  observe,  that  the  case  in  Vir 
ginia  serves  to  prove  that  the  body  'of  sober  and  steady  people,  even  of  the 
lower  order,  are  tired  of  the  vicissitudes,  injustice,  and  follies  which  have 
so  much  characterized  public  measures,  and  are  impatient  for  some  change 
which  promises  stability  and  repose." 

The  strongest  opponents  of  the  Constitution  in  Virginia,  were  undoubt 
edly  Patrick  Henry,  Colonel  Mason,  and  Richard  Henry  Lee.  The  weight 
of  their  influence  was  felt  on  all  sides,  but,  as  Mr.  Madison  states  in  the 
letter  previously  quoted,  the  people  were  in  advance  of  their  leaders.  The 
objections  of  Colonel  Mason  were  at  first  limited,  but  eventually  extended 
to  condemnation  of  every  article.  The  plan  he  followed  was  to  alarm  the 
people  by  prophesying  a  lapse  into  monarchy  after  a  short  trial  of  the  unit 
system  as  a  republic.  Mr.  Lee  was  actuated  by  much  the  same  spirit; 
and  Mr.  Henry  hesitated  at  no  measure  that  could  be  furthered  by  his 
unmatched  eloquence. 

The  adjournment  of  the  legislature  on  the  8th  of  January,  transferred 
the  advocacy  of  and  opposition  to  the  Constitution  to  the  broad  field  of  the 
state.  Into  the  contest  for  the  election  of  delegates  to  the  convention  mem 
bers  carried  with  them  the  sentiments  they  had  adhered  to  in  the  assembly. 


MEMBER    OF    THE    CONSTITUTIONAL    CONVENTION.  459 

Mr.  Madison  was  still  a  member  of  Congress,  which  was  then  sitting  in  New 
York.  On  the  5th  of  February  General  Washington  wrote  him:  "Many 
have  asked  me  with  anxious  solicitation,  if  you  did  not  mean  to  get  into  the 
convention,  conceiving  it  of  indispensable  importance."  Mr.  Madison 
replied:  "I  have  given  notice  to  my  friends  in  Orange,  that  the  country 
may  command  my  services  in  the  convention  if  it  pleases.  I  can  say,  with 
great  truth,  that  in  this  overture  I  sacrifice  every  private  inclination  to  con 
siderations  not  of  a  selfish  nature.  I  foresee  that  the  undertaking  will 

o 

involve  me  in  very  laborious  and  irksome  discussions  ;  that  public  opposi 
tion  to  several  very  respectable  characters,  whose  esteem  and  friendship  I 
greatly  prize,  may  unintentionally  endanger  the  existing  connection  ;  and 
that  disagreeable  misconstructions,  of  which  samples  have  been  already 
given,  ma}-  be  the  fruit  of  those  exertions  which  fidelity  will  impose.  But  I 
have  made  up  my  determination  on  the  subject;  and,  if  I  am  informed  that 
my  presence  at  the  election  in  the  count}'  be  indispensable,  I  shall  submit 
to  that  condition  also,  though  it  is  my  particular  wish  to  decline  it,  as  well 
to  avoid  apparent  solicitude  on  the  occasion,  as  a  journey  of  such  length  at 
a  very  unpleasant  season."  Communications  received  soon  after  this  from 
his  friends  in  Orange  count}',  decided  Mr.  Madison  upon  a  journey  to  his 
home.  Colonel  William  Moore,  who  hail  been  his  colleague  in  the  state 
legislature,  wrote  him  in  the  following  terms,  urging  his  presence:  "You 
know  the  disadvantage  of  being  absent  at  elections  to  those  who  offer  them 
selves  to  serve  the  public.  I  must  therefore  entreat  and  conjure  you — nay, 
command  you,  if  it  were  in  my  power — to  be  here  in  February,  or  the  first 
of  March  next.  Pray  don't  disappoint  the  wishes  of  your  friend  ,  and  many 
others,  who  are  wavering  on  the  Constitution,  and  anxiously  writing  for  an 
explanation  from  you.  In  short,  the}'  want  your  sentimentsy/v, // your  oicti 
mouth,  which  they  say  will  convince  them  of  the  necessity  of  adopting  it.  I 
repeat  again,  come." 

Mr.  Madison  left  New  York  on  the  4th  of  March,  calling,  on  his  jour 
ney,  at  Mount  Yernon,  and  reached  his  home  the  da}*  preceding  the  elec 
tion.  The  lime  was  short,  but  such  was  the  trust  of  his  constituents  in  the 
integrity  and  wisdom  of  their  representative,  that  he  was  elected  a  member 
of  the  convention,  and  strengthened  by  a  colleague  of  his  own  opinion. 
The  season  was  now  so  far  advanced  that  he  determined  on  remaining  in 
Virginia  until  after  the  adjournment  of  the  convention,  which  would  meet 
in  June. 

During  this  interval  the  correspondence  with  Mr.  Jefferson  was  con 
tinued,  and  so  strong  a  sentiment  did  it  express  of  his  opinions  regarding 
the  Constitution,  that  to  omit  it  here  would  be  to  do  him  an  injustice, 
Under  date  April  22,  1788,  he  wrote  as  follows:  "The  proposed  conven 
tion  still  engrosses  the  public  attention.  The  elections  for  the  convention 
here  are  just  over,  and  promulged.  From  the  returns  (excluding  those  from 


4/>O  JAMES    MADISON. 

Kentucky,  which  are  not  yet  known),  it  seems  probable,  though  not  abso 
lutely  certain,  that  a  majority  of  the  members  elect  are  friends  to  the  Con 
stitution.  The  superiority  of  abilities,  at  least,  seems  to  lie  on  that  side. 
The  governor  [Randolph]  is  so  temperate  in  his  opposi 
tion,  and  goes  so  far  with  the  friends  of  the  Constitution,  that  he  cannot 
properly  be  classed  with  its  enemies.  Monroe  is  considered  by  some  as  an 
enemy  ;  but  I  believe  him  to  be  a  friend,  though  a  cool  one.  There  are 
other  individuals  of  weight,  whose  opinions  are  unknown  to  me.  . 

The  adversaries  take  very   different  grounds   of  opposition.      Some 
are  opposed  to  the  substance  of  the  plan  ;   ethers  to  particular  modifications 
only.     Mr.  Henry  is  supposed  to  aim  at  disunion.      Colonel  Mason  is  grow 
ing  every  day  more  bitter  and  outrageous  in  his  efforts   to  carry  his   point. 
The    preliminary    question  will    be,  whether    previous 

alterations  shall  be  insisted  on  or  not.  Should  this  be  carried  in  the  affirma 
tive,  either  a  conditional  ratification  or  a  proposal  for  a  new  convention  will 
ensue.  In  either  event,  I  think  the  Constitution  and  the  Union  will  be  both 
endangered.  It  is  not  to  be  expected  that  the  states  which  have  ratified  will 
reconsider  their  determinations,  and  submit  to  the  alterations  prescribed  by 
Virginia.  And,  if  a  second  convention  should  be  formed,  it  is  as  little  to 
be  expected  that  the  same  spirit  will  prevail  in  it  as  produced  an  amicable 
result  to  the  first.  It  will  be  easy,  also,  for  those  who  have  latent  views  of 
disunion  to  carry  them  on  under  the  mask  of  contending  for  alterations, 
popular  in  some,  but  inadmissible  in  other,  parts  of  the  United  States. 
The  real  sense  of  the  people  of  the  state  cannot  be  easily  ascertained. 
The}7  are  certainly  attached,  and  with  warmth,  to  a  continuance  of  the 
Union  ;  and,  I  believe,  a  large  majority  of  the  most  intelligent  and  inde 
pendent  are  equally  so  to  the  plan  under  consideration. 

While  Mr.  Jefferson  favored  a  revision  of  the  articles  of  confederation 
and  the  adoption  of  a  form  of  government  that  would  unite  the  divergent 
interests  of  the  country,  he  deemed  certain  features,  and  the  lack  of  other 
express  provisions,  as  grave  mistakes.  In  a  letter  to  Mr.  Madison,  dated 
December  20,  1787,  he  said:  "I  like  much  the  general  idea  of  framing  a 
government  which  should  go  on  of  itself  peaceably  without  needing  contin 
ual  recurrence  to  the  state  legislatures.  I  like  the  organization  of  the 
government  into  legislative,  judiciary,  and  executive.  I  like  the  power  given 
the  legislature  to  levy  taxes ;  and  for  that  reason  solely,  I  approve  of  the 

greater   house  being  chosen   by   the  people   directly "     There 

were  objections  on  other  points — in  particular,  the  omission  of  a  bill  of 
rights  ;  and  the  indefinite  re-eligibility  of  the  President.  In  all,  he  favored 
the  adoption  of  the  Constitution,  by  nine  of  the  states,  and  the  refusal  by  four 
of  its  ratification  until  such  amendments  as  they  should  propose,  were 
adopted,  thus  providing  for  covering  the  points  he  specially  mentioned,  as 
well  as  others  that  might  in  the  future  be  brought  forward.  Or,  in  lieu  of 


MEMBER    OF    THE    CONSTITUT^y  -\L    CONVENTION.  46* 

this,  to  follow  the  plan  proposed  by  Massachusetts, — accept  the  Constitu 
tion  as  a  whole,  and  afterward  amend.  In  letters  addressed  to  General 
Washington  and  to  Kdward  Rutledge,  of  South  Carolina,  written  about  this 
time,  he  thus  spoke  of  Madison's  connection  with  the  ratification  of  the 
Constitution  by  Virginia:  "He  will  be  its  main  pillar;  but,  though  an 
immensely  powerful  one,  it  is  questionable  whether  he  can  bear  the  weight 
of  such  a  host,"  referring  to  the  strong  intellects  arrayed  against  him. 

The  convention  of  Virginia  which  assembled  in  Richmond,  on  Monday, 
June  2,  1 788,  was  composed  of  one  hundred  and  seventy  members.  Ed 
mund  Pendlcton,  one  of  the  ablest  and  most  influential  of  the  main"  able 
men  comprising  the  convention,  was  unanimously  chosen  president.  After 
the  election  of  other  officers  and  the  appointment  of  a  committee  of  privileges 
and  elections,  the  convention  adjourned  to  the  following  da)*.  On  the  4th 
it  resolved  into  committee  of  the  whole.  The  interest  of  all  classes  was 
centered  on  the  deliberations  of  the  convention,  and  each  day  the  lobbies 
were  crowded  with  representative  men  of  the  state,  beside  many  strangers 
from  other  states.  Debate  was  opened  by  George  Nicholas,  who  confined 
himself  to  the  first  two  sections  of  the  first  article, — those  relating  to  the 
organization  of  the  I  louse  of  Representatives.  He  was  followed  by  Mr 
Henry,  who  brought  the  weight  of  his  eloquence  to  bear  against  the  Con 
stitution,  and  went  beyond  the  giound  agreed  upon  in  the  earl}'  debate  ot 
the  question.  Governor  Randolph  replied  to  Mr.  Henry,  and  was  in  turn 
met  in  argument  by  Colonel  Mason.  The  discussion  of  the  day  was  closed  by 
Mr.  Madison.  It  is  to  be  regretted  that  tile  limits  of  this  work  will  not  allow 
of  copious  extracts  from  many  of  his  speeches  on  this  and  on  other  occasions. 
The  question  of  ratification  of  the  Constitution  was  mainly  discussed  by 
the  persons  whose  names  have  heretofore  appeared,  the  burden  of  refuting 
the  arguments  of  the  opposition  falling  almost  entirely  upon  Mr.  Madison. 
With  him  each  point  was  candidly  considered ;  those  bearing  weight  were 
allowed  to  stand,  while  those  intended  simply  to  influence  the  result,  were 
torn  in  pieces,  and  their  fallacies  exposed.  Mr.  Jefferson  expressed  an 
opinion  of  Mr.  Madison  when  in  his  prime,  that  well  represents  him  in  this 
convention.  lie  says:  "Taken  all  in  all,  he  was  the  ablest  man  in  debate 
I  have  ever  met  with.  lie  hail  not,  indeed,  the  poetic  fancy  of  Mr.  Henry, 
his  sublime  imagination,  hi.s  l«^ft/  and  overwhelming  diction.  But  he  was 
cool,  smooth,  and  persuasive;  his  language  flowing,  chaste,  and  embellished; 
his  conceptions  quick,  acute,  and  full  of  resource  ;  never  vanquished. 

Add  to  this,  he  was  one  of  the  most  virtuous  and  benevolent  of 
men  ;  the  kindest  friend  ;  the  most  amiable  and  pleasant  of  companions. 
which  ensured  a  favorable  reception  to  whatever  came  from  him."  Pos 
sessed  of  the  attributes  thus  ascribed  to  him  by  his  friend,  and  which  were 
reiterated  by  others  familiar  with  the  man  and  his  character,  it  is  not  to  be 
wondered  that  he  overcame  even  the  almost  resistless  eloquence  of  Pal 


462  JAMES    MADISON. 

rick   Henry,   of  whom  Jefferson  wrote:   "He  seemed  to  me  to  speak  as 
Homer  wrote." 

Debate  on  the  Constitution  was  brought  to  a  close  on  the  230!  of  June, 
and  on  the  24th  Mr.  Wythe,  who  had  occupied  the  chair  throughout  the 
deliberations,  descended  to  the  floor,  and  submitted  a  proposition  for  its 
ratification.  This  was  debated  during  the  two  following  days,  all  of  the 
leading  opponents  to  the  Constitution  speaking  against  it,  while  but  four  of 
its  friends — Mr.  Madison,  Governor  Randolph,  Mr.  Nicholas,  and  Mr.  Inncs 
— spoke  in  its  favor.  The  question  was  then  put  to  the  house  on  Mr. 
Wythe's  proposition,  and  carried,  and  a  committee  consisting  of  Mr.  Mad- 
son,  Mr.  Randolph,  Mr.  Nicholas,  Mr.  Marshall,  and  Mr.  Corbin,  was 
appointed  to  prepare  a  suitable  form  of  ratification.  The  form  prepared  by 
the  committee  was  signed  the  following  day  by  the  president  of  the  conven 
tion.  A  bill  of  rights  was  afterwards  agreed  upon  by  the  house,  and 
lt  recommended  to  the  consideration  of  Congress,  to  be  acted  upon  accord 
ing  to  the  mode  prescribed  in  the  fifth  article  of  the  Constitution."  Thus 
was  ended  a  contest  second  only  in  importance  to  that  which  preceded  the 
adoption  of  the  Constitution  in  the  general  convention. 

New  Hampshire  had  ratified  the  Constitution  the  2ist  of  June,  thus 
making  the  required  number  to  insure  its  adoption,  although  that  fact  was 
unknown  to  the  Virginia  convention.  The  ratification  in  New  Hampshire 
was  severely  contested,  and  wras  only  carried  conditionally.  Neither  North 
Carolina  nor  Rhode  Island  had  as  yet  accepted  the  Constitution,  and  the 
latter  refused  even  to  call  a  convention  for  that  purpose. 


RE-ELECTED    TO    CONGRESS.  463 


CHAPTER  V. 

RE-ELECTED  TO  CONGRESS. 

UNDER  the  Constitution  each  state  was  now  entitled  to  two  senators 
No  date  had  been  decided  upon  for  the  election  of  these  officers,  and 
on  November  I,  1/88,  Patrick  Henry,  who  had  been  foremost  in  the  oppo 
sition  to  the  Constitution,  moved  that  the  two  houses  of  the  Virginia  assem 
bly  proceed  to  the  election  of  senators  as  the  order  of  business  for  one  week 
from  that  clay.  It  was  the  wish  of  his  friends  that  Mr.  Madison  present  his 
name  as  a  candidate,  although  his  preferences  led  him  to  the  lower  house. 
In  deference,  however,  to  the  wishes  of  those  who  had  sustained  him  in 
public  life  thus  far,  he  consented  that  his  name  be  presented,  well  aware  that 
the  determined  opposition  of  Mr.  Henry  and  all  others  who  so  strenuously 
condemned  the  ratification  of  the  Constitution,  would  be  centered  toward 
his  defeat.  Mr.  Henry  took  it  upon  himself  to  nominate  two  candidates 
for  the  offices — Richanl  Henry  Lee,  and  Mr.  Grayson — both  of  the  number 
of  those  who  opposed  the  Constitution  ;  at  the  same  time,  by  disparaging 
Madison  in  the  minds  of  members  of  the  assembly,  he  attempted  to 
still  further  increase  the  strength  of  his  candidates.  As  it  was,  the  vote  was 
close,  resulting  in  ninety-eight  for  Mr.  Eee,  eighty-six  for  Mr.  Grayson, 
and  seventy-seven  for  Mr.  Madison. 

Efforts  were  made  by  Mr.  Henry  in  an  attempt  to  still  further  humiliate 
Mr.  Madison.  A  new  arrangement  of  Congressional  districts  was  made, 
by  which  it  was  hoped  to  defeat  him  in  a  re-election  to  the  House  of  Repre 
sentatives  ;  at  the  same  time  a  law  was  passed  that  no  member  should  repre 
sent  a  district  in  which  he  did  not  reside.  These  efforts  to  keep  him  out  of 
Congress  had  the  effect  to  excite  a  general  interest  in  his  behalf  in  other 
sections  of  the  state.  Both  Williamsburg  and  Augusta,  though  in  other  dis 
tricts,  proposed  that  he  run  for  office  under  their  patronage,  believing  the 
law  prohibiting  such  representation  unconstitutional.  He  resolved  to 
remain  by  his  own  district,  and  in  the  latter  part  of  December  returned  to 


TAMES    MADISON. 

his  home  in  Orange.  The  election  was  to  take  place  the  2<d  day  of  Febru 
ary  ;  his  opponent  was  James  Monroe,  an  intimate  friend,  and  one  of  those 
who  had  opposed  the  ratification  of  the  Constitution.  It  is  a  remarkable 
fact  that  though  these  two  were  leaders  in  several  political  contests,  and 
were  pitted  against  each  other  during  the  greater  part  of  the  five  weeks 
preceding  this  election,  their  friendship  remained  unimpaired  through  life. 
The  result  of  this  campaign  was  the  election  of  Mr.  Madison  by  a  handsome 
majority. 

The  first  Congress  assembled  in  New  York  on  the  first  Wednesday  in 
March,  1789,  to  begin  its  deliberations  under  the  new  Constitution.  It  was 
not,  however,  until  the  early  part  of  April  that  a  quorum  was  present  for 
the  transaction  of  business.  Immediately  after  organizing  it  proceeded  to 
open  the  returns  from  the  electoral  colleges  of  the  several  states.  On  the 
6th  day  of  the  month  a  joint  meeting  of  the  two  houses  was  held,  for  the 
purpose  of  determining  the  election  of  a  President  and  Vice  President.  The 
choice  fell  upon  George  Washington  for  President,  and  John  Adams  for 
Vice  President.  Measures  were  taken  to  inform  the  officers  elect  that  their 
presence  was  desired.  Information  was  conveyed  to  General  Washington 
by  Mr.  Charles  Thompson,  who  had  served  as  secretary  to  the  old  Congress 
during  a  period  of  fourteen  years.  On  the  23d  of  April  the  President-elect 
arrived  in  New  York,  and,  arrangements  being  completed,  on  the  3Oth  day 
of  April,  1789,  he  subscribed  to  the  oath  of  office  before  the  two  houses  of 
Congress,  sitting  for  that  purpose,  in  the  Senate  chamber.  Following  his 
induction  into  office,  the  President  delivered  to  Congress  his  inaugural 
address,  in  answer  to  which  addresses  of  confidence  and  attachment  were 
voted  by  both  houses.  That  of  the  House  of  Representatives  was  reported 
by  a  committee,  of  which  Mr.  Madison  was  a  member,  and  was  written  by 
him. 

That  Madison  was  most  implicitly  trusted  by  Washington  is  sus 
ceptible  of  proof.  While  the  first  President  was  possessed  of  a  good  degree 
of  education,  and  strong  mental  faculties,  when  he  came  to  prepare  his 
answer  to  the  address  of  Congress,  he  experienced  a  strong  distrust  of  his 
own  capabilities  for  the  formulation  of  a  document  that  would,  in  all  proba^ 
bility,  be  spread  upon  the  pages  of  history.  He  therefore  solicited  the 
assistance  of  Mr.  Madison  in  its  preparation  in  the  following  lines: 


THE  5th,  1789. 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR:  —  Notwithstanding  the  conviction  I  am  under,  of  the 
labor  which  is  imposed  on  you  by  individuals,  as  well  as  public  bodies,  yet, 
as  you  have  begun,  so  I  would  wish  you  to  finish  the  good  work  in  a  short 
reply  to  the  address  of  the  House  of  Representatives  (which  I  now  enclose) 
that  there  may  be  an  accordance  in  the  business.  As  the  first  of  everything 


RE-ELECTED    TO    CONGRESS.  465 

in  our  situation  will  serve  to  establish  a  precedent,  it  is  devoutly  wished,  on 
my  part,  that  these  precedents  may  be  fixed  on  true  principles. 
"With  affectionate  regard,  I  am  ever  yours, 

' '  GEORGE  WASHINGTON.  " 

A  few  days  later  a  similar  request  was  made  with  regard  to  his  reply 
to  the  address  of  the  Senate.  In  both  instances  the  request  was  complied 
with  ,  and  during  the  earlier  part  of  his  administration,  President  Washing 
ton  honored  both  himself  and  Mr.  Madison  by  frequently  calling  upon  him 
for  his  advice  and  opinion,  when  came  up  an}'  doubtful  line  of  policy. 
There  is  no  doubt  he  would  have  called  Mr.  Madison  to  a  seat  in  his  cabinet, 
had  not  the  Constitution  expressly  declared  that  ' '  no  senator  or  represen 
tative  shall,  during  the  time  for  which  he  was  elected,  be  appointed  to  any 
civil  office  under  the  authority  of  the  United  States,  which  shall  have  been 
created,  or  the  emoluments  whereof  shall  have  been  increased,  during  such 
time."  As  the  cabinet  was  created  by  Congress,  so  no  member  of  either 
house  could,  under  the  foregoing  article,  be  appointed  to  it  during  that  term 
of  Congress. 

By  general  consent,  the  leadership  of  the  House  of  Representatives  in 
the  first  Congress  under  the  Constitution,  devolved  upon  Mr.  Madison. 
Certainly  no  member  was  better  entitled  to  such  eminence,  either  by  educa 
tion,  length  of  service,  or  characteristic  fitness  and  ability.  Almost  the 
first  business  after  the  administration  of  the  oath  of  office,  was  the  offering 
by  him  of  a  resolution  providing  for  the  immediate  raising  of  a  revenue, 
and  "  rescuing  the  trade  of  the  country,  in  some  degree,  from  its  present 
anarch}'."  Heretofore  it  had  been  impossible  to  establish  a  uniform  system 
of  imposts,  owing  to  jealous}'  between  the  maritime  states.  New  and 
increased  powers  were  conferred  on  Congress  by  the  adoption  of  the  Con 
stitution.  Mr.  Madison  proposed  the  system  of  1783  as  the  basis  of  their 
action.  That  system  consisted  of  specific  duties  on  certain  enumerated 
articles  of  foreign  merchandise,  including  spirituous  liquors,  wines,  teas, 
cocoa,  coffee,  sugars,  molasses,  and  pepper,  together  with  five  per  centum 
011  line-numerated  articles.  To  these  he  desired  to  add  a  graduated  scale  of 
duties  on  the  tonnage  of  all  foreign  vessels  importing  goods  into  the  United 
States,  discriminating  in  favor  of  American  citizens  brought  into  competi 
tion  with  the  subjects  of  foreign  powers;  and  also  allowing  extraordinary 
privileges  to  such  foreign  countries  as  had  formed  treaties  of  commerce 
with  the  United  States.  Considerable  discussion  ensued  on  a  proposition  to 
add  to  the  enumerated  articles  certain  others  used  in  the  business  of  manu 
facturing  and  distilling  in  the  eastern  states  ;  but  the  greatest  objection 
was  encountered  in  the  clause  discriminating  in  favor  of  powers  having 
commercial  relations  with  us,  as  against  those  which  had  declined  to  enter 
into  such  relations.  England  was  the  most  prominent  of  the  latter  class, 
and  had  already  absorbed  the  greater  part  of  the  carrying  trade.  Great 


466  JAMES    MADISON. 

opposition  was  brought  to  bear  by  the  merchants  of  New  York,  many 
of  whom  favored  British  interests,  that  city  being  notoriously  tory  in  senti 
ment.  The  propositions  of  Mr.  Madison,  ably  advocated  by  himself  and 
others  among  the  leading  minds  of  the  House,  were  carried  by  a  large 
majority,  but  were  finally  stricken  out  in  the  Senate.  They  were  after 
wards  passed  by  that  body  after  giving  solemn  assurance  that  a  separate 
bill  covering  the  points  at  issue,  should  be  reported  and  carried,  which,  how 
ever,  was  never  done. 

Immediately  following  the  settlement  of  the  question  of  imposts  came 
another  important  subject  before  the  House.  On  the  iSth  of  May, 
Mr.  Madison  introduced  resolutions  favoring  the  establishment  of  an 
executive  department,  to  be  known  as  the  department  of  foreign  affairs, — • 
afterwards  changed  to  department  of  state ;  also  for  a  department  of  the 
treasury,  and  a  department  of  war, — all  of  which  was  authorized  by  the  Con 
stitution.  The  discussion  of  this  subject  was  long,  and  involved  an  exam 
ination  into  the  true  meaning  of  the  Constitution  in  some  of  its  most  essen 
tial  features:  the  security  of  the  public  liberty,  and  the  efficiency  and 
success  of  the  administration.  It  was  proposed  that  the  President  be 
empowered  to  appoint  the  heads  of  departments,  who  should  constitute  his 
cabinet,  and  the  discussion  turned  on  the  point  whether  he  should  have 
absolute  power  in  removals,  or  whether  Congress,  or  the  Senate,  should 
be  allowed  a  voice  in  the  matter.  It  was  finally  determined  by  a  vote  of 
thirty  to  eighteen,  that  to  the  President  alone  belonged  the  right  of  removal. 

In  consonance  with  the  demands  of  his  constituents,  and  of  the  state 
which  he  represented,  on  the  8th  of  June,  1789,  Mr.  Madison  introduced  a 
series  of  propositions  designed  as  amendments  to  the  Constitution.  These 
were  mainly  in  the  nature  of  a  declaration  of  rights,  for  freedom  of  speech, 
freedom  of  the  press,  freedom  of  religion,  the  security  of  property,  per 
sonal  liberty,  trial  by  jury,  and  other  points  not  covered  by  the  Constitu 
tion.  In  addition,  he  aimed  to  provide  for  a  fuller  representation  of  the 
people  in  Congress  ;  and  to  prevent  Congress  from  voting  an  increase  of 
pay  to  take  effect  during  the  current  representation.  These  propositions 
were  accepted  by  both  houses,  and  by  them  submitted  to  the  states  for 
their  action,  in  the  form  of  twelve  additional  articles  to  the  Constitution, 
Of  these,  except  the  last  two,  all  were  promptly  ratified  by  the  legislatures 
of  three-fourths  of  the  states,  and  became  parts  of  the  Constitution.  The 
adoption  of  these  amendments  was  soon  followed  by  the  ratification  of  the 
Constitution  by  both  North  Carolina  and  Rhode  Island,  which  states  had 
heretofore  held  themselves  aloof  from  the  Union  under  the  new  govern 
ment.  While  the  House  was  considering  the  foregoing  propositions,  the 
Senate  turned  its  attention  to  the  organization  of  the  judiciary  department. 
The  bill  was  considered  in  committee,  then  reported  to  the  Senate,  and 
passed  by  a  vote  of  fourteen  to  six.  On  the  25th  of  August  it  was  taken 


RE-ELECTED   TO    CONGRESS.  467 

up  in  the  House,  and  there  discussed,  at  intervals,  until  the  i/th  of  Septem 
ber.  As  a  branch  of  government  of  paramount  importance,  Mr.  Madison 
gave  it  his  earnest  and  anxious  attention.  The  measure  was  passed  as  it 
came  from  the  Senate,  though  amendments  were  desirable,  yet  the  close  of 
the  session  was  near  at  hand  and  members  were  desirous  to  return  to  their 
homes,  and  not  disposed  to  give  the  subject  the  consideration  its  impor 
tance  deserved. 

The  first  session  of  Congress  under  the  Constitution  had  called  for  the 
unremitting  care  and  oversight  of  a  leading  and  directing  mind.  It  was 
necessary  that  nearly  every  feature  of  the  government  be  revised  and 
adapted  to  surrounding  circumstances.  Foreign  relations,  finance,  imposts, 
the  judiciary,  were  to  be  remodeled,  or  established,  and  to  each  of  these  in 
its  turn  did  Mr.  Madison  direct  his  attention  ;  in  nearly  all,  his  was  the  first 
proposition  presented,  and  on  him  fell  the  burden  of  explanation,  argument, 
and  proof.  Not  alone  in  Congress  was  he  relied  upon  :  he  was  the  trusted 
friend  and  counsellor  of  the  President,  and  during  the  early  months  of  his 
administration,  until  the  appointment  of  the  cabinet,  he  was  frequently  con 
sulted  regarding  the  proper  course  to  be  pursued;  even  in  the  selection 
of  his  permanent  advisors,  President  Washington  conferred  with  him  and 
in  the  choice  of  a  secretary  of  state  solicited  his  influence  with  Mr.  Jef 
ferson.  During  the  recess  of  Congress,  which  he  spent  at  his  home  in  Vir 
ginia,  he  visited  Mr.  Jefferson,  who  had  recently  returned  from  France,  and 
explained  to  him  the  reasons  why  his  services  were  at  that  time  of  more 
value  to  the  country  in  the  office  to  which  he  had  been  called,  than  they 
could  by  any  possibility  be  as  minister  to  France.  It  was  in  great  part  clue 
to  the  earnest  representations  made  by  Mr.  Madison,  that  Mr.  Jefferson  was 
prevailed  upon  to  sacrifice  his  own  inclinations  and  give  to  the  President  the 
benefit  of  his  ripe  experience  in  public  affairs. 

Mr.  Madison  was  detained  in  Virginia  by  the  serious  illness  of  his 
mother,  and  during  his  trip  to  New  York  was  himself  delayed  by  illness,  so 
that  he  did  not  arrive  until  some  days  after  Congress  had  resumed,  in  Janu 
ary,  1790.  The  President's  address  was  delivered  the  8th.  On  the  I4th 
an  exhaustive  report  was  made  by  Alexander  Hamilton,  secretary  of  the 
treasury,  which  was  ordered  printed,  and  \vas  made  the  order  of  the  da}*,  two 
weeks  from  the  date  of  its  reading.  The  immediate  effect  of  the  publication 
of  this  report  was  to  precipitate  speculation  in  the  depreciated  government 
securities,  which  were  almost  worthless,  and  of  which  he  advocated  the  full 
payment.  In  a  letter  to  Mr.  Jefferson,  written  the  24th  of  January,  Mr. 
Madison  says:  "  Prior  to  the  report's  being  made,  the  avidity  for  stock 
had  raised  it  from  a  few  shillings  to  eight  or  ten  shillings  in  the  pound;  and 
emissaries  are  still  exploring  the  interior  and  distant  parts  of  the  Union,  in 
order  to  take  advantage  of  the  ignorance  of  holders."  The  mania  for  spec 
ulation  extended  even  to  members  of  Congress,  to  whom  was  entrusted  the 


468  JAMES    MADISON. 

making  of  the  laws  for  the  payment  of  these  securities.  Vessels  were  dis 
patched  from  New  York,  their  destination  being  southern  ports,  and  the 
object  in  view,  the  purchase  of  obligations  of  the  government  at  the  very 
lowest  rate,  before  information  of  the  measures  proposed  in  Congress 
should  reach  remote  points ;  couriers  with  relays  of  horses  penetrated  to 
the  interior  of  the  country  on  the  same  errand;  every  advantage  was  taken 
of  the  ignorance  of  holders  of  bonds  and  securities.  It  was  in  the  midst  of 
this  speculative  mania  that  the  House  began  discussion  of  the  report.  Res 
olutions  were  offered  embodying  the  recommendations  of  the  report.  The 
first,  affirming  the  propriety  of  making  adequate  provision  for  fulfilling  the 
engagement  of  the  United  States  regarding  foreign  obligations,  was  passed 
without  debate.  The  second,  declaring  that  "  permanent  funds  ought  to  be 
appropriated  for  the  payment  of  interest  on,  and  a  gradual  discharge  of,  the 
domestic  debt,"  gave  rise  to  debate,  which  continued  two  days. 

Recognizing  the  obligation  of  the  government  to  pay  the  bonded  debt, 
both  foreign  and  domestic,  Mr.  Madison  felt  the  injustice  that  would  be 
done  by  paying  the  full  amount  to  speculators.  He  therefore  proposed  in 
such  cases  that  payment  should  be  equalized  between  the  sufferer  and  the 
speculator.  In  upholding  this  course  in  the  House  he  said  :  "They  may 
appeal  to  justice,  because  the  value  of  the  money,  the  service,  or  the  prop 
erty  advanced  by  them  has  never  been  really  paid  to  them.  They  may 
appeal  to  good  faith,  because  the  certificates,  which  were  in  fact  forced 
upon  them  by  the  government,  cannot  be  fairly  adjudged  an  extinguish 
ment  of  the  debt.  They  may  appeal  to  the  motives  for  establishing  public 
credit,  for  which  justice  and  faith  form  the  natural  foundation.  They  may 
appeal  to  \he  precedent  furnished  by  the  compensation  allowed  to  the  army 
during  the  late  war,  for  the  depreciation  of  bills,  which  nominally  discharged 
the  debts  due  to  them.  They  may  appeal  to  humanity  ;  for  the  sufferings 
of  the  military  part  of  the  creditors  can  never  be  forgotten,  while  sympathy 
is  an  American  virtue  ;  to  say  nothing  of  the  singular  hardships,  proclaimed 
by  so  many  mouths,  of  requiring  those  who  have  lost  four  fifths,  or  seven- 
eights  of  their  due,  to  contribute  the  remainder  in  favor  of  those  who  have 
gained  in  the  contrary  proportion."  Admitting,  with  fairness,  the  claims 
that  might  be  allowed  on  behalf  of  the  purchasers  of  the  public  securities,  he 
further  said:  "Such  then,  being  the  interfering  claims  on  the  public,  one 
of  three  things  must  be  done  :  pay  both,  reject  wholly  one  or  the  other,  or 
make  a  composition  between  them  on  some  principle  of  equity.  To  pay 
both  is  perhaps  beyond  the  public  facilities;  and  as  it  would  far  exceed 
the  value  received  by  the  public  it  will  not  be  expected  by  the  world,  nor 
even  by  the  creditors  themselves.  To  reject  wholly  the  claims  of  either,  is 
equally  inadmissible.  Such  a  sacrifice  of  those  who  hold  the  written  engage 
ment  of  the  government  would  be  fatal  to  the  establishment  of  public  credit. 
To  make  the  other  class  the  sole  victims  was  an  idea  at  which  human  nature 


RE-ELECTED    TO    CONGRESS.  469 

recoiled.  A  composition,  then,  is  the  only  expedient  that  remains.  Let  it 
be  a  liberal  one,  in  favor  of  the  present  holders  ;  let  them  have  the  highest 
price  which  has  prevailed  in  the  market  ;  and  let  the  residue  belong  to  the 
original  sufferers."  Referring  then  to  the  fluctuations  of  stocks  in  Europe 
as  compared  with  those  of  the  United  States  in  her  extremity,  he  concluded: 
"It  maybe  objected  that  such  a  provision  as  I  propose  will  exceed  the 
public  ability.  I  do  not  think  the  public  unable  to  discharge  honorably  all 
its  engagements,  or  that  it  will  be  unwilling,  if  the  appropriations  shall  be 
satisfactory.  I  regret  as  much  as  any  member,  the  unavoidable  weight  and 
duration  of  the  burthens  to  be  imposed, — having  never  been  a  proselyte  to 
the  doctrine,  that  public  debts  are  public  benefits.  I  consider  them,  on  the 
contrary,  as*  evils  which  ought  to  be  removed  as  fast  as  honor  and  justice 
will  permit,  and  shall  heartily  join  in  the  means  necessary  for  that  purpose. 
I  conclude  with  declaring,  as  my  opinion,  that  if  any  case  were  to  happen 
among  individuals,  bearing  an  analog}-  to  that  of  the  public  here,  a  court  of 
equity  would  interpose  its  redress  ;  or  that,  if  a  tribunal  existed  on  earth  by 
which  nations  could  be  compelled  to  do  right,  the  United  States  would  be 
compelled  to  do  something  not  dissimilar  in  its  principles  to  what  I  have 
contended  for. " 

Opponents  were  not  wanting  to  combat  the  views  of  Mr.  Madison. 
In  answer  to  him  arose  Mr.  Sedgwick  and  Mr.  .Ames,  of  Massachusetts; 
Mr.  Laurence  and  Mr.  Benson,  of  New  York;  Mr.  Boudinot,  of  New 
Jersey,  and  Mr.  Smith,  of  South  Carolina.  With  the  strength  born  of 
numbers  the}'  overbore  his  arguments,  and  during  the  week's  debate  that 
ensued  were  strengthened  by  the  outside  pressure  brought  to  bear.  When 
the  question  was  put  to  a  vote,  his  proposition  was  rejected  by  a  very  large 
majority.  Two  months  later,  notwithstanding  the  result  of  the  vote  on  this 
question,  Congress  was  under  the  necessity  of  recognizing  the  right  of  the 
principle  he  enunciated.  An  appropriation  had  been  made  to  pa}'  to  the 
North  Carolina  and  Virginia  line  certain  arrearages,  which  claims  had  been 
bought  up  at  prices  much  below  their  real  value,  and  assignments  obtained 
by  speculators,  who  took  advantage  of  the  ignorance  or  distresses  of  the 
claimants.  Proof  of  these  facts  being  adduced,  Congress  passed  resolutions 
virtually  annulling  the  assignments,  and  directing  the  secretary  of  the  treas 
ury  to  pa}'  the  claims  only  to  the  original  claimants,  or  to  persons  duly 
authorized  by  them  under  a  power  of  attorney,  attested  by  two  justices  of 
the  peace,  authorizing  the  receipt  of  a  specific  sum.  These  matters  have 
been  treated  thus  full}'  in  order  to  a  better  understanding  of  the  principles 
that  governed  ever}'  action  of  Mr.  Madison  in  his  official  life,  principles 
from  which  he  never  deviated  during  his  eventful  public  career,  and  which 
are  worthy  of  emulation  by  the  men  of  this  and  succeeding  generations. 

Previous  to  the  adoption  of  the  Constitution  no  system  had  been  fol 
lowed  in  obtaining  a  census  of  the  several  states.  It  therefore  devolved 


4/O  JAMES    MADISON. 

upon  Congress  to  provide  for  the  periodical  enumeration  of  the  inhabitants. 
The  Constitution  enjoined  such  census,  as  a  basis  on  which  to  estimate 
federal  representation,  and  direct  taxes.  A  committee  consisting  of  one 
member  from  each  state,  was  appointed  and  reported  a  bill  for  this  purpose. 
Mr.  Madison  believed  that  a  more  comprehensive  census  would  be  of  great 
value  to  law-makers,  and  he  proposed  an  amendment  to  the  bill,  providing 
for  an  analytical  and  classified  enumeration,  distinguishing  by  their  respect 
ive  pursuits  the  different  classes  of  the  people,  thus  enabling  legislatures  to 
adapt  the  public  measures  to  the  requirements  of  different  communities. 
This  was  an  idea  twenty  years  in  advance  of  the  most  progressive  European 
statesmen,  and  was  adopted  by  the  House.  In  its  mutations  in  the  Senate 
the  provision  was  afterward  dropped,  and  did  not  appear  upon  the  statute 
books  until  some  fifty  years  later.  However,  the  far-seeing  statesmanship 
of  Mr.  Madison  should  have  credit  for  this  effort  at  advancement. 

The  subject  of  the  assumption  of  state  debts  followed  soon  after  action 
had  been  taken  in  support  of  the  public  credit,  and  developed  a  great 
amount  of  discussion,  as  well  as  a  spirit  of  determined  opposition  from 
members  representing  states  which  had  made  successful  efforts  to  provide 
for  their  individual  liabilities  incurred  in  the  contest  for  independence.  Such 
weue  opposed  to  the  payment  of  debts  contracted  by  neighboring  states, 
after  meeting  their  own  obligations.  Mr.  Madison  took  strong  Grounds 

o  o  o      o 

against  assumption,  arguing  that  the  state  debts  were  not  in  their  nature 
debts  of  the  United  States.  For  a  time  after  the  delivery  of  Mr.  Madison's 
speech  the  subject  was  dropped.  It  was  again  brought  forward  in  the 
course  of  the  discussion  relating  to  the  permanent  location  of  the  seat  of 
government.  This  latter  question  developed  a  great  amount  of  feeling, 
particularly  among  the  southern  members,  who  saw  in  the  effort  to  locate 
the  capital  at  New  York,  or  at  farthest,  on  the  Susquehanna,  an  attempt  at 
belittling  the  interests  of  Virginia,  the  Carolinas,  and  Georgia.  In  this 
contest  the  lines  between  north  and  south  were  for  the  first  time  sharply 
drawn.  There  seemed  no  other  resort  than  a  compromise,  whereby  the 
assumption  of  the  state  debts  would  be  granted,  and  the  capital  located  on 
the  bank  of  the  Potomac  after  remaining  for  ten  years  at  Philadelphia. 
On  this  basis  the  question  was  finally  settled. 

On  December  6,  1790,  Congress  assembled  at  Philadelphia,  in  accord 
ance  with  the  resolutions  providing  for  a  temporary  and  a  permanent  seat  of 
government.  It  was  opened  as  before,  by  a  speech  from  the  President. 
The  House  of  Representatives  again  appointed  a  committee,  of  which  Mr. 
Madison  was  a  member,  to  prepare  an  address  in  answer  to  the  speech. 
This  being  clone,  the  attention  of  the  House  was  called  to  the  necessity  for 
making  provision  looking  to  the  payment  of  the  state  debts  assumed  at  the 
late  session.  It  seemed  probable  that  resort  would  be  had  to  excises,  to 
meet  the  demand  that  would  soon  be  made.  To  this  Mr.  Madison  was 


RE-ELECTED    TO    CONGRESS. 

opposed,  as  "giving  arbitrary  powers  to  the  collector,  exposing  the  citizen  to 
vexatious  searches,  and  opening  the  door  to  fraud  and  perjuries,  that  tend 
equally  to  vitiate  the  morals  of  the  people,  and  to  defeat  the  public  revenue." 
He  preferred  a  direct  tax  to  the  imposition  of  excises,  but  knowing  that  such 
would  meet  with  determined  opposition  from  the  people,  he  was  with  reluct 
ance  constrained  to  vote  for  an  excise  to  be  imposed  on  spirituous  liquors, 
which  was  carried  by  a  vote  of  thirty-five  to  twenty. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  session  the  secretary  of  the  treasury  had  pre 
sented  his  report,  in  which  he  urged  the  incorporation  of  an  United  States 
bank,  to  be  modeled  after  the  similar  institution  in  England.  The  excises 
being  disposed  of,  the  bank  bill  was  called  up,  and  debate  begun  by  Mr. 
Madison,  who  opened  with  a  general  review  of  the  advantages  of  banks. 
He  held  that  greater  advantages  would  be  obtained  by  the  establishment 
of  several  banks,  but  denied  that  the  authority  for  the  establishment  of  such 
an  one  as  was  proposed  could  be  derived  from  the  Constitution.  He  then 
discussed  the  text  of  that  document,  and  the  conclusions  arrived  at  relating 
to  the  powers  delegated  by  each  article  as  it  was  presented  to  the  conven 
tion  that  framed  it,  and  from  these  deduced  that  the  ground  on  which  he 
stood  was  the  only  one  tenable.  In  closing  his  argument  he  said:  "The 
exercise  of  the  power  asserted  in  the  bill  involves  all  the  guilt  of  usurpa 
tion  ;  and  establishes  a  precedent  of  interpretation,  leveling  all  the  barriers 
which  limit  the  power  of  the  general  government  and  protect  those  of  the 
state  governments."  He  was  answered  by  Messrs.  Ames,  Sedgwick,  and 
Gerry,  of  Massachusetts  ;  Laurence,  of  New  York  ;  Boudinot,  of  Xew 
Jersey;  Smith,  of  S.uith  Carolina,  all  of  whom  "united  in  the  doctrine, 
that  Congress,  in  the  exercise  of  power,  was  not  restricted  to  the  means 
necessary  and  proper  for  the  execution  of  the  powers  specifically  granted, 
according  to  the  language  of  the  Constitution  ;  but  might  do  whatsoever  it 
deemed  necessary  and  proper  to  the  ends  for  which  the  Constitution  was 
adopted  and  those  powers  were  conferred,"  and  contended  that  the  eighth 
section  of  the  first  article,  relative  to  the  "common  defense  and  general 
welfare,"  in  connection  witli  the  power  of  taxation,  were  the  sources  from 
which  they  derived  the  power  to  establish  a  national  bank.  In  reply  to 
them  able  speeches  were  made  by  Mr.  Stone,  of  Maryland  ;  Mr.  Giles,  of 
Virginia  ;  and  Mr.  Jackson,  of  Georgia.  The  debate  was  closed  by  Mr. 
Madison,  in  a  vigorous  review  of  the  arguments  of  his  opponents,  and  a 
strengthening  of  the  ground  he  had  taken  by  further  reference  to  the  bind 
ing  force  of  the  Constitution.  His  logical  deductions  were  of  no  avail,  how 
ever,  the  bill  being  carried  in  the  affirmative  by  a  vote  of  thirty-nine  to 
twenty,  Maryland,  Virginia,  North  Carolina,  South  Carolina,  and  Georgia, 
voting  in  the  negative.  Thus  the  division  between  the  north  and  the  south 
was  strengthened. 

Previous  to  its  adjournment,  March  3d,   1/91,  Congress  adapW  a  reso- 


472  JAMES    MADISON. 

Jution  fixing  the  meeting  of  the  second  Congress  for  the  4th  Monday  in 
October,  following.  During  this  interim  Mr.  Madison  and  Mr.  Jefferson 
projected  an  excursion  through  the  eastern  states  for  the  purpose  of  viewing 
a  section  of  country  neither  had  before  visited.  It  was  while  on  this  tour 
that  Mr.  Madison  was  induced  to  take  a  part  in  the  establishment  of  a 
weekly  newspaper  in  Philadelphia,  which  was  placed  under  the  editorial 
management  of  Captain  Philip  Frenau,  who  had  been  his  classmate  in  col 
lege.  This  paper  was  projected  in  order  that  the  republican  party  might 
have  an  organ  which  should  represent  it,  as  opposed  to  the  United  States 
Gazette,  published  under  the  patronage  of  Colonel  Hamilton,  in  the  interest 
of  the  federalists.  The  new  paper  was  established  in  the  autumn  of  1791, 
under  the  title  of  the  National  Gazette,  and  was  published  with  recognized 
ability  for  the  space  of  two  years,  its  editor  in  the  meantime  holding  a 
clerkship  under  the  government,  in  the  state  department,  the  salary,  how 
ever,  being  meagre — only  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  per  year. 


FURTHER    CONGRESSIONAL    SERVICE. 


4/3 


CHAPTER  VI. 

FURTHER  CONGRESSIONAL  SERVICE-MARRIAGE. 

AGAIN,  on  the  opening  of  the  second  Congress,  did  Mr.  Madison  pre 
pare  the  answer  of  the  House  to  the  speech  of  the  President.  Very 
few  changes  had  taken  place  in  the  membership.  The  census  returns  were 
now  in,  and  it  became  the  duty  of  Congress  to  decide  upon  a  ratio  of 
apportionment.  Great  difference  in  views  was  brought  out  in  the  discussion 
relative  to  the  number  of  members  to  be  allowed  the  House,  the  ratio  of 
representation  proposed  varying  from  one  in  thirty  thousand  to  one  in  forty 
thousand.  A  proposition  was  made  for  one  hundred  and  twenty  represent 
atives,  to  be  apportioned  among  the  states  in  a  ratio  of  one  in  each  thirty 
thousand  ;  it  was  found  such  arrangement  would  leave  unapportioned  eight 
members.  Those  remaining  were  then  allotted  to  eight  of  the  states,  giving 
two  to  the  states  south  of  the  Chesapeake,  and  six  to  the  states  north  of  the 
bay.  In  this  form  the  bill  was  passed  by  the  two  houses,  and  submitted,  to 
the  President  for  his  signature.  It  did  not  meet  his  approbation,  and  the 
cabinet  was  divided  on  the  question,  Hamilton  and  Knox  declaring  in  its 
favor,  while  Jefferson  and  Randolph  believed  it  unconstitutional.  To  obtain 
further  light  the  President  recurred  to  the  judgment  of  Mr.  Madison,  which 
being  in  the  negative,  thus  coinciding  with  the  opinions  of  the  secretary  of 
state  and  the  attorney  general,  it  was  returned  with  a  veto.  Very  soon 
after  a  bill  was  reported  fixing  the  ratio  at  one  representative  in  every  thirty- 
three  thousand  population,  which  received  the  President's  signature  and 
became  a  law. 

The  first  session  of  the  second  Congress  closed  May  8,  1/92,  and  stood 
adjourned  until  the  first  Monday  in  November.  The  speech  of  the  Presi 
dent,  on  the  opening  of  Congress,  was  this  time  prepared  by  Colonel 
Hamilton  :  the  reply  of  the  House  was  prepared  by  a  committee,  of  which 
Mr.  Madison  was  chairman,  associated  with  Mr.  Benson,  of  New  York,  and 
Mr.  Murray,  of  Maryland,  the  two  latter  warm  personal  friends  of  Hamil- 


474  JAMES    MADISON. 

ton.  The  address  of  the  House  was  but  an  echo  of  the  sentiments  of  the 
speech.  During  the  session  of  Congress  the  secretary  of  the  treasury 
was  charged  with  disobedience  of  instructions,  in  employing  certain  funds 
in  a  manner  different  from  that  specified  in  the  act  of  appropriation.  The 
charges  being  sustained,  a  resolution  of  censure  was  proposed  by  Mr.  Giles, 
of  Virginia,  which  was  vigorously  debated  by  'leading  members  of  the 
House,  Mr.  Madison  making  a  powerful  speech  in  support  of  the  measure. 
Such  was  the  composition  of  the  House,  however,  that  on  being  brought  to 
a  vote,  the  proposition  was  lost. 

Immediately  after  the  close  of  Congress,  in  the  latter  part  of  March, 
1792,  Mr.  Madison  returned  to  Montpelier,  and  devoted  much  of  the  vacation 
to  his  estate,  seeking  relief  for  his  mind,  which  had  been  severely  taxed  in 
the  consideration  of  public  questions.  He  abandoned  for  a  time,  the  political 
and  philosophical  articles  he  had  been  preparing  for  publication  in  Frenau's 
Gazette,  in  answer  to  those  of  Colonel  Hamilton,  which  were  published  in 
the  United  States  Gazette.  The  condition  of  the  growing  crops,  particularly 
of  the  wheat,  which  was  severely  injured  by  unfavorable  weather,  attracted 
his  attention,  as  it  had  a  direct  bearing  upon  his  income.  He  was  also  experi 
menting,  to  some  extent,  in  improved  agricultural  implements,  and  wrote, 
as  follows,  to  Mr.  Jefferson,  who  had  invented  a  very  useful  and  service 
able  plow:  "  Repeat  my  thanks  to  Dr.  Logan,  if  you  have  an  opportunity. 
The  patent  plough  is  worth  looking  at,  if  you  should  visit  his  farm.  You 
will  see  your  theory  of  a  mould-board  more  nearly  realized  than  in  any  other 
instance  ;  and  with  the  advantage  of  having  the  iron  wing  (which,  in  com 
mon  bar  shares  as  in  great,  lies  useless  under  the  wood)  turned  up  into  the 
sweep  of  the  board,  and  relieving  it  from  the  brunt  of  the  friction.  By  fix 
ing  the  coulter,  which  is  detached,  to  the  point  of  the  share,  it  will,  I  think, 
be  nearly  complete.  I  purpose  to  have  one  so  constructed.  The  detached 
form  may  answer  best  in  old,  clean  ground,  but  will  not  stand  the  shocks  of 
our  rough  and  rooty  land,  especially  in  the  hands  of  our  ploughmen." 
Mr.  Madison's  correspondence  with  Mr.  Jefferson  contains  frequent  mention 
of  agricultural  matters,  in  which  both  were  much,  interested,  and  to  which, 
in  the  intervals  of  public  life,  they  devoted  themselves.  Progressive  farmers 
they  were,  as  well  as  progressive  statesmen.  Whatever  promised  to  be  of 
value  early  received  trial,  and  if  it  realized  the  expectations  that  had  been 
raised,  its  merits  were  made  known  to  the  people, 

During  this  season  of  relief  from  the  tiresome  duties  of  committee 
work,  and  labor  in  the  halls  of  Congress,  he  made  short  visits  to  Colonel 
James  Monroe,  and  Colonel  Wilson  Cary  Nicholas,  being  absent  ten  days. 
On  his  return  to  his  father's  seat,  he  found  a  number  of  friends  who  pur 
posed  remaining  his  guests  several  weeks  ;  he  was  thus  constrained  to  occupy 
some  time  with  them,  instead  of  resuming  his  literary  work.  He  also  con 
tinued  his  correspondence  with  Mr.  Jefferson,  and  earnestly  entreated  him  to 


FURTHER    CONGRESSIONAL    SERVICE.  4/5 

retain  the  office  he  then  held,  instead  of  seeking  the  retirement  he  so  much 

o 

desired;  holding  that  the  condition  of  the  state  demanded  that  he  sacrifice 
his  private  wishes  to  the  public  good. 

Some  portions  of  the  summer  and  fall  of  1793  were  particularly 
unhealthy  in  Philadelphia,  where  yellow  fever  had  broken  out,  and  raged 
with  great  virulence.  As  a  consequence,  it  was  not  until  the  2d  day  of 
December  that  a  quorum  of  Congress  was  present.  On  the  3d  the  speech 
of  the  President  was  delivered ;  it  was  followed,  two  days  later,  by  a  written 
message,  referring  specially  to  the  relations  with  France  and  Great  Britain. 
These  had  for  some  time  been  questions  of  great  moment  to  the  govern 
ment,  and  had  been  subject  of  discussion  between  the  secretary  of  state, 
Mr.  Jefferson,  and  Edmund  Genet,  on  the  part  of  France ;  and  with  Mr. 
Hammond,  on  the  part  of  England.  Erance  had  proposed  a  treaty  for  a 
new  arrangement  of  commercial  relations  with  the  United  States,  while 
Great  Britain  was  not  disposed  to  take  any  step  in  that  direction,  On  the 
opening  of  Congress  was  achieved  a  victor}'  for  the  republicans  in  the 
election  of  one  of  their  party — Mr.  Muhlenbcrg — as  speaker ;  it  also  wit 
nessed  the  close  of  Mr.  Jefferson's  administration  of  the  office  of  secretary 
of  state,  the  unpleasant  relations  he  had  with  Colonel  Hamilton,  and  his 
desire  for  retirement  from  the  cares  of  public  life,  leading  to  his  resignation. 
The  subject  of  protection  t<>  commerce  was  the  most  important  feature  in 
Congress.  With  this  object  in  view  Mr.  Madison  introduced  a  series  of 
resolutions  proposing  additional  duties  on  the  manufactures  and  shipping 
of  foreign  countries  having  no  commercial  treaty  with  the  United  States. 
He  said  that  one  of  the  chief  objects  of  the  Constitution  was  to  vest  in  the 
general  government  the  power  of  regulating  commerce,  with  a  view  to 
enforce  reciprocity  from  foreign  governments.  "The  time  was  now  come 
when  the  exercise  of  this  power,  with  moderation,  firmness,  and  decision, 
was  called  for.  It  was  in  the  power  of  the  United  States,  by  exerting  their 
natural  rights,  without  violating  the  rights,  or  even  equitable  pretensions 
of  other  nations — by  doing  no  more  than  most  nations  d<>  for  the  protec 
tion  of  their  interests,  and  much  less  than  some, — to  cause  their  interests  to 
be  proper!}'  respected." 

Discussion  of  the  subject  was  postponed  to  the  I3th  of  January,  wher 
Mr  Smith,  of  South  Carolina,  became  the  mouthpiece  of  Colonel  Hamilton 
in  the  opposition  to  the  course  proposed  by  Mr.  Madison,  his  principal 
argument  being  that  discrimination  regarding  duties  might  provoke  war  with 
Great  Britain,  which  was  greatly  to  be  deprecated  in  the  then  state  of  affairs 
To  this  Mr.  Madison  replied  with  his  usual  conciseness  and  thoroughness; 
and  later  in  the  course  of  the  debate  made  still  another  speech  in  reply  to 
the  opposition.  After  three  weeks'  discussion  the  question  was  had  on  the 
first  of  the  resolutions,  which  was  carried  by  a  vote  of  fifty-one  to  forty-six. 
The  opposition  being  fearful  that  the  remainder  of  the  resolutions  would  pass. 


47^  JAMES    MADISON. 

proposed  that  further  consideration  be  postponed  until  the  first  Monday  in 
March,  which  suggestion  was  acceded  to  by  about  the  same  vote  that  carried 
the  first  resolution.  Information  regarding  continued  outrages  upon  the 
commerce  of  the  United  States  by  Great  Britain  having  been  received  prev 
ious  to  the  time  appointed  for  the  calling  up  of  the  remaining  resolutions, 
consideration  was  postponed  until  the  loth  of  March,  to  afford  time  for  more 
authentic  and  accurate  information.  This  was  forthcoming  in  a  few  days,  to 
the  effect  that  large  numbers  of  American  vessels  had  been  seized  and  con 
demned  in  the  West  Indies,  ostensibly  "  on  the  pretext  of  enforcing  the 
laws  of  the  monarchy  with  regard  to  the  colony  trade."  The  resolutions 
were  again  postponed  until  after  a  resolution  had  been  introduced  for  the 
levying  of  an  army  of  fifteen  thousand  men,  to  hold  themselves  in  readiness 
to  respond  to  any  call  made  within  two  years.  This  resolution  was  laid 
aside,  and  the  commercial  resolutions  taken  up,  and  after  two  days'  discus 
sion  they  were  again  laid  aside  to  take  up  the  more  pressing  subject  of  an 
embargo,  that  had  in  the  meantime  arisen.  On  the  26th  of  March,  an 
embargo  was  laid  by  the  direct  and  immediate  action  of  Congress,  for  a 
period  of  "  thirty  days,  on  all  ships  and  vessels  in  the  ports  of  the  United 
States  bound  to  any  foreign  port  or  place."  On  the  1 6th  of  April,  the 
President  nominated  Mr.  John  Jay,  chief  justice  of  the  United  States,  to  a 
special  mission,  having  in  view  an  adjustment  of  the  difficulties  that  had 
arisen  with  Great  Britain.  The  military  measures  brought  forward  by  the 
federalists  met  with  no  success,  being  rejected  in  the  House  by  a  vote  of 
fifty  to  thirty.  This  important  session  of  Congress  was  finally  adjourned 
June  9,  1794. 

Mr.  Madison  was  married  on  the  I5th  day  of  September,  1794,  to 
Mrs.  Dorothea  Payne  Todd,  at  the  residence  of  Mr.  Steptoe  Washington, 
who  had  previously  married  a  sister  of  Mrs.  Todd.  She  was  a  native  of 
Virginia,  but  had  accompanied  her  parents  to  Philadelphia,  and  while  yet 
young  had  married  Mr.  Todd,  a  member  of  the  Pennsylvania  bar,  who 
soon  after  died,  leaving  her,  a  very  attractive  widow,  with  an  only  son.  Mr. 
Madison  became  a  successful  suitor  for  her  hand,  and  she  continued  for 
the  space  of  forty-two  years,  and  during  the  remainder  of  his  eventful  life, 
the  faithful  and  tender  companion,  the  helpmeet  and  ornament  of  his 
household. 

The  adjourned  session  of  Congress  convened  the  3d  day  of  November, 
but  it  was  not  until  the  i8th  that  a  quorum  was  present.  The  President's 
speech  on  the  I9th  was  largely  devoted  to  the  insurrection  in  western  Penn 
sylvania,  which  was  the  effect  of  attempted  enforcement  of  the  obnoxious 
excise  laws ;  the  militia  had  been  called  out  to  quell  the  riot,  on  the  repre 
sentation  of  the  secretary  of  the  treasury  that  this  was  the  only  proper 
course  to  pursue.  A  large  number  of  arrests  were  made,  and  two  men 


FURTHER    CONGRESSIONAL    SERVICE  477 

convicted  of  treason,  but  by  the  clemency  of  the  President  all  were  granted 
amnesty. 

During  this  session  of  Congress  was  consummated  Jay's  treaty  with 
England,  which,  however,  was  not  received  in  America  until  the  /th  day  of 
March,  1/95,  three  days  after  adjournment.  It  was  not  made  public  until 
the  1st  of  July,  and  confirmed  the  unfavorable  impressions  that  had  already 
been  formed.  Much  delay  was  had  in  considering  the  different  clauses  of 
the  treat}',  and  it  was  not  until  the  i8th  of  August  that  the  President,  with 
many  misgivings,  attached  his  signature,  which  was  attested  by  Edmund 
Randolph,  secretary  of  state. 

As  early  as  December,  1/94,  Mr.  Jefferson  wrote  Mr.  Madison,  depre 
cating  his  retirement  to  civil  life,  as  he  had  learned  was  his  intention,  and 
expressed  the  hope  that  he  might  become  the  nominee  of  the  republican 
part}'  for  President.  This  Mr.  Madison  was  not,  in  his  own  mind,  pre 
pared  to  accept,  and,  as  future  events  proved,  the  time  was  not  yet  ripe  for 
such  candidacy,  Mr.  Jefferson  himself  being  selected  for  that  place  in  oppo 
sition  to  Mr.  Adams,  who  was  nominated  by  the  federalists.  The  fall  elec 
tions  of  1/96  resulted  in  the  election  of  John  Adams  as  President,  and  his 
opponent,  Thomas  Jefferson,  as  Vice  President.  On  the  4th  of  March, 
I/97'  the  President  and  Vice  President  were  installed.  Just  previous  to 
the  inauguration  Mr.  Adams  had  a  private  interview  with  Mr.  Jefferson,  in 
which  he  revealed  more  regarding  the  plans  he  intended  to  pursue  in  the 
course  of  his  administration,  than  he  ever  told  thereafter.  He  proposed  to 
send  a  mission  to  France  that  should  satisfy  that  nation,  and  from  its  com 
position  should  also  satisfy  the  different  sections  of  the  United  States.  He 
was  determined  to  join  Gerry,  Madison,  and  Pinckney  in  such  mission,  and 
desired  Mr.  Jefferson  to  consult  Mr.  Madison,  and  obtain  his  views  regard 
ing  the  appointment.  The  President  and  Vice  President  again  met,  at  the 
residence  of  the  ex-President,  and,  leaving  at  the  same  time,  Mr.  Jefferson 
informed  him  of  the  conversation  he  had  had  with  Mr.  Madison.  The  Presi 
dent  replied  that  since  the  consultation  of  a  few  days  previous,  some  objec 
tions  had  been  raised,  which  he  had  not  contemplated.  It  transpired  that  a 
cabinet  meeting  had  been  held,  which  had  developed  a  strong  opposition  to 
Mr.  Madison,  on  the  part  of  the  federal  members,  who  were  determined 
that  no  leading  representatives  of  the  opposition  should  hold  office,  that 
being  the  policy  dictated  by  their  leader,  Alexander  Hamilton,  the  late  sec 
retary  of  the  treasury. 

The  beginning  of  the  Adams  administration  was  the  close  of  Mr.  Madi- 
ison's  service  as  member  of  the  I  louse  of  Representatives.  He  soon  returned 
to  Montpelier,  remaining  011  his  estate  until  the  following  year,  when  he 
accepted  a  seat  in  the  Virginia  legislature,  where  he  could  the  better  oppose 
the  administration  of  President  Adams.  In  the  course  of  the  legislative 
term  he  took  a  decided  stand  against  the  alien  and  sedition  laws,  which  had 


4/8  JAMES    MADISON. 

been  passed  by  the  federalist  Congress,  making  a  report  thereon  to  the 
lower  house,  and  becoming  the  author  of  a  series  of  resolutions  against  those 
laws,  which  resolutions  have  since  formed  a  text  for  the  doctrine  of  state 
rights,  as  held  by  the  southern  states  for  many  years,  and  long  a  cardinal 
principle  of  a  portion  of  the  Democratic  party. 


IN    PRESIDENT   JEFFERSON'S   CABINET.  479 


CHAPTER  VII. 

IN  PRESIDENT  JEFFERSON'S  CABINET— ELECTED  PRESIDENT. 

LATE  in  the  winter  of  1801  Thomas  Jefferson  was  elected  President 
by  the  House  of  Representatives,  a  tie  vote  in  the  electoral  college 
having  thrown  the  election  into  that  body.  The  day  following  his  inaugura 
tion,  President  Jefferson  nominated  as  his  cabinet,  James  Madison  secretary 
of  state,  Henry  Dearborn  secretary  of  war,  and  Levi  Lincoln  attorney  gen 
eral,  all  of  whom  were  confirmed  by  the  Senate  on  the  same  day.  In  May, 
Albert  Gallatin  was  appointed  secretary  of  the  treasury.  One  of  the  first 
official  acts  of  Mr.  Madison  was  the  writing  an  approval  of  the  treaty  01 
purchase  from  France  of  the  province  of  Louisiana.  Throughout  the  two 
terms  of  Jefferson's  administration  Mr.  Madison  pursued  a  calm,  dignified 
bearing  in  all  diplomatic  correspondence;  and  in  the  direction  of  home  affairs 
represented  the  fidelity  to  principle  that  ever  characterized  him,  winning 
increased  popularity  in  the  party  he  represented.  As  a  statesman  he  was 
the  recognized  peer  of  his  political  associates,  and  when  approached  the 
close  of  Mr.  Jefferson's  administration,  the  voice  of  the  people  called  him 
to  a  higher  station. 

In  the  contest  for  Presidential  nomination  in  1808,  were  presented  the 
names  of  Governor  George  Clinton,  of  New  York,  and  James  Monroe  and 
James  Madison,  of  Virginia.  The  campaign  was  entered  into  with  spirit  by 
the  friends  of  the  respective  candidates,  and  on  the  230!  of  January  was  held 
the  caucus  of  the  republican  party,  for  the  purpose  of  deciding  upon  a 
candidate.  Eighty-nine  delegates  were  present,  some  thirty  or  forty  of 
those  appointed  being  absent,  a  jxirt  from  sickness,  some  absent  from  the 
city  ;  yet  others  remained  away  because  they  believed  the  candidate  of 
their  choice  could  not  be  nominated.  For  the  Presidency  Mr.  Madison 
received  eighty-three  votes  in  caucus,  Governor  Clinton  three,  and  Mr. 
Monroe  three.  Clinton  received  the  nomination  for  Vice  President,  by 
seventy-nine  votes.  While  the  decision  of  the  caucus  was  a  foregone  con- 


480  JAMES  MADISON. 

elusion,  certain  of  the  republicans  felt  much  embittered  against  President 
Jefferson,  believing  that  he  had  exerted  his  influence  in  favor  of  his  sec 
retary  of  state,  thereby  injuring  the  chances  of  Mr.  Monroe.  The  latter 
held  the  same  opinion,  and  in  answer  to  a  letter  from  Mr.  Jefferson,  written 
soon  after  the  caucus,  used  some  sharp  words  expressive  of  his  feelings. 
To  these  Mr.  Jefferson  replied  with  great  moderation,  and  their  friendship 
was  soon  renewed.  There  is  little  doubt  the  President  favored  the  claims 
of  Mr.  Madison,  considering  him  the  riper  statesman,  and  from  his  long 
connection  with  the  public  service,  justly  entitled  to  precede  his  younger 
friend,  Monroe.  The  nominations  did  not  effectually  settle  the  question  of 
candidacy,  for  the  three  persons  there  presented  were  continued  before  the 
people.  The  federalists  presented  the  name  of  Charles  Cotesworth  Pinck- 
ney,  of  South  Carolina,  as  their  candidate,  and  during  the  campaign 
derived  considerable  strength  from  disaffected  republicans.  Mr.  Monroe 
received  no  electoral  votes,  but  had  a  large  following  in  his  own  state. 
Mr.  Madison  received  for  President  one  hundred  and  twenty-two  votes ;  Mr. 
Clinton  received  six ;  and  Mr.  Pinckney,  the  federalist  candidate,  received 
forty-seven.  For  Vice  President,  Governor  Clinton  received  one  hundred 
and  thirteen  votes,  James  Madison  three;  James  Monroe  three;  John  Lang- 
don  nine ;  and  Rufus  King  forty-seven. 

The  inauguration  of  James  Madison  as  President  took  place  in  the  cap- 
itol  at  Washington,  March  4,  1809,  the  oath  of  office  being  administered  by 
Chief-justice  Marshall.  President  Jefferson  occupied  a  seat  at  his  right, 
members  of  his  cabinet,  foreign  ministers,  and  others  being  present  in  large 
numbers.  For  his  cabinet  Mr.  Madison  selected  Robert  Smith,  of  Mary 
land,  as  secretary  of  state;  William  Eustis,  of  Massachusetts,  secretary  of 
war ;  Paul  Hamilton,  of  South  Carolina,  secretary  of  the  navy.  Albert 
Gallatin  was  continued  as  secretary  of  the  treasury,  and  Caesar  A.  Rodney, 
of  Delaware,  attorney  general.  The  eleventh  Congress  assembled  May  22d, 
in  accordance  with  a  resolution  passed  by  the  previous  Congress,  war  with 
England  being  imminent.  The  non-intercourse  act,  which  had  followed 
the  embargo,  was  continued  in  a  modified  form ;  on  the  28th  of  June  the 
extra  session  of  Congress  was  terminated. 

The  affair  of  the  Chesapeake  and  the  Leopard,  in  which  the  latter  insisted 
upon  the  right  of  search,  and  enforced  her  demands  by  firing  upon  and  dis 
abling  the  C/icsapcakc,.  took  place  in  June,  1807.  Though  the  excitement 
caused  thereby  had  mostly  abated,  there  yet  remained  a  feeling  of  hostility 
to  Great  Britain.  No  satisfaction  had  been  granted  for  the  outrage,  though 
nearly  two  years  had  passed.  In  April,  1809,  Mr.  Erskine,  the  British 
minister  at  Washington,  considering  that  by  the  enforcement  of  the  non- 
intercourse  act  Great  Britain  and  France  were  now  on  equal  terms,  informed 
the  government  that  he  was  authorized,  by  dispatches  received  from  his 
government,  to  make  reparation  for  the  insult  given  the  flag  on  the  occasion 


IN    PRESIDENT    JEFFERSON'S    CABINET  431 

in  question.  He  stated  that  an  envoy  extraordinary  would  soon  arrive, 
empowered  to  conclude  a  treaty  on  all  questions  in  dispute  between  the  two 
countries;  and  that  the  orders  of  his  government  in  council,  would  be 
repealed  as  soon  as  the  non-intercourse  act  was  made  of  none  effect.  Under 
these  circumstances,  on  the  iQth  of  the  month,  President  Madison  issued  a 
proclamation,  stating  that  the  British  orders  were  revoked,  to  take  effect 
the  lOth  of  June,  when  commerce  would  be  renewed.  The  British  govern 
ment  declined  to  be  bound  by  the  actions  of  its  minister,  who  acknowl 
edged  that  he  had  exceeded  his  instructions,  and  the  only  course  left  Mr. 
Madison  was  a  renewal  of  the  non-intercourse  act.  Mr.  Erskine  was 
recalled,  and  another  envoy  appointed  in  his  stead.  These  proceedings 
aroused  a  considerable  degree  of  hostility  against  the  British  government, 
and  a  declaration  of  war  would  have  been  received  with  joy. 

The  successor  of  Mr.  Krskine  as  minister  to  the  United  States  was  Mr. 
Jackson,  who  arrived  in  \Yashington  near  the  close  of  the  year  1809.  He 
was  a  very  different  man  from  his  predecessor,  and,  though  instructed  by 
his  government  to  explain  the  reasons  for  declining  to  endorse  the  action 
of  Mr.  Krskine,  he  attempted  by  means  of  censures  and  criminations  upon 
the  United  States  government,  to  vindicate  Great  Britain.  He  continued  the 
controversy  with  the  secretary  of  state  some  three  weeks,  when  the  Pres 
ident  directed  that  no  further  communication  be  held  with  him.  He  soon 
took  up  his  residence  in  New  York,  where  he  remained  until  his  recall  at 
request  of  Mr.  Madison.  Not  until  November,  1811,  was  the  question  at 
issue  settled  by  the  appointment  of  Mr.  Foster  as  minister  to  the  United 
States. 

Congress  again  assembled,  the  2jth  of  November,  1809,  anc^  among  other 
general  measures  renewed  that  of  non-intercourse  by  a  new  act.  In  the  early 
part  of  1810,  the  French  decree  of  Rambouillet  was  made  known  in  Amer 
ica  ;  it  was  claimed  to  be  in  retaliation  of  the  non-intercourse  act.  By  it 
all  American  vessels  which  had  entered  French  ports  since  the  2Oth  of 
March,  1808,  or  which  should  thereafter  enter,  were  declared  forfeit,  and 
when  taken  were  to  be  sold  for  the  benefit  of  the  French  treasury.  French 
privateers  also  committed  main'  depreciations  on  American  commerce, 
which  was  almost  destroyed.  The  act  already  referred  to  provided  that  in 
case  either  France  or  England  should  repeal  the  offensive  retaliatory  orders, 
after  three  months,  renewal  of  intercourse  would  be  permitted.  The  French 
government  was  informed  of  the  passage  of  this  act,  by  the  American 
minister  at  Paris,  and  replied  through  the  minister  of  foreign  affairs  that  the 
decrees  of  Berlin  and  Milan  were  revoked,  and  would  cease  to  be  of  effect 
after  the  1st  of  the  following  November,  it  also  "  being  understood  that  the 
Knglish  shall  revoke  their  orders  in  council,  and  renounce  the  new  principle 
of  blockade  which  they  have  wished  to  establish  ;  or  that  the  United  States 
shall  cause  their  rights  to  be  respected  by  the  Knglish."  Events  proved 


432  JAMES    MADISON. 

that  Bonaparte  did  not  intend  to  revoke  his  decrees,  unless  Great  Britain 
should  take  a  similar  step  in  revoking  her  orders  in  council,  or  the  United 
States  should  declare  war  and  enforce  her  rights.  The  agreement  of  the 
French  minister  was  of  no  force,  the  sequestration  of  vessels  and  their 
cargoes  continuing  as  before.  In  March,  1811,  the  emperor  declared  that 
"the  decrees  of  Berlin  and  Milan  were  the  fundamental  laws  of  his  empire." 
About  the  same  time  the  new  French  envoy  to  the  United  States  officially 
informed  the  government  that  no  remuneration  would  be  made  for  property 
sequestrated. 

The  British  refused  to  revoke  the  orders  in  council,  on  the  ground  that 
no  sufficient  proof  existed  of  the  revocation  of  the  decrees  of  Berlin  and 
Milan,  and  insisted  that  the  non-intercourse  act  was  unjust  and  partial. 
This  state  of  things  had  the  effect  to  increase  the  hostility  to  England, 
particularly  as  American  vessels  and  their  cargoes  continued  to  be  seized 
by  British  men-of-war,  and  sold  under  order  of  their  admiralty  courts. 

In  February,  iSil,  the  President  appointed  Joel  Barlow  minister  to 
France,  with  full  instructions  to  negotiate  a  treaty  of  commerce  with  that 
nation.  He  made  strenuous  efforts  to  procure  a  revocation  of  the  decrees, 
and  finally  obtained  from  Napoleon  a  decree  that  "so  long  as  the  British 
orders  in  council  were  unrepealed,  and  the  principles  of  the  treaty  of  Utrecht 
[1/13]  with  respect  to  neutrals  were  in  operation,  his  edicts  of  Berlin  and 
Milan  must  remain  in  force,  as  to  those  nations  which  should  suffer  their 
flag  to  be  denationalized"  The  British  government  was  again  appealed  to, 
to  withdraw  the  orders  in  council,  on  the  ground  that  the  French  edicts 
were  repealed,  and  replied,  that  "  whenever  those  edicts  were  absolutely 
and  unconditionally  repealed  by  an  authentic  act  of  the  French  government, 
pidilicly  promulgated,  their  orders  would  be  revoked." 

The  twelfth  Congress  assembled  November  4,  iSn,  and  organized  by 
electing  Henry  Clay,  speaker.  Mr.  Clay  was  just  entering  upon  his  first 
term  in  the  representative  body,  having  already  served  two  short  terms  in 
the  Senate.  He  was  an  ardent  administration  man,  and  was  ably  seconded 
by  Messrs.  Calhoun,  Cheves,  Lowndcs,  of  South  Carolina,  and  other 
influential  southern  representatives,  together  with  William  H.  Crawford,  of 
Georgia,  in  the  Senate.  As  far  remote  as  the  close  of  the  Jefferson  admin 
istration,  war  with  Fngland  had  been  contemplated,  but  no  provision  for 
offense  or  defense  had  been  made ;  the  army  had  been  reduced  to  three 
thousand  regulars,  while  the  navy  comprised  but  twenty  vessels — ten  frig 
ates,  and  ten  sloops-of-war  and  smaller  vessels.  One  hundred  and  fifty  £~un- 
boats  had  been  built,  but  they  were  useful  only  in  harbor  and  river  defense. 
Through  the  advice  of  Mr.  Clay,  Mr.  Lowndes,  and  Mr.  Calhoun,  the  policy 
of  the  administration  was  changed.  Mr.  Madison  was  by  nature  a  man  of 
peace,  and  it  was  with  much  difficulty  he  was  prevailed  upon  to  acquiesce 
in  the  inevitable  and  allow  of  preparations  for  war.  Bills  were  passed  pro- 


IN    PRESIDENT    JEFFERSON'S    CABINET.  483 

viding  for  the  enlistment  of  twenty  thousand  men  ;  authorizing  the  Presi 
dent  to  call  for  volunteers  to  the  number  of  fifty  thousand  ;  authorizing  the 
repairing  and  equipping  of  all  frigates  in  ordinary,  and  making  appropria 
tions  for  building  such  additional  frigates  as  might  be  necessary.  The  Presi 
dent  was  also  authorized  to  require  that  each  of  the  states  provide  its 
proportion  of  one  hundred  thousand  militia,  to  be  armed,  equipped,  and 
held  in  readiness  to  march  at  a  moment's  notice.  One  million  dollars  was 
appropriated  to  carry  forward  war  preparations. 

The  time  approached  when  Mr.  Madison's  first  term  as  President 
would  expire.  A  caucus  of  the  members  of  the  existing  Congress  would 
place  in  nomination  candidates  for  President  and  Vice  President.  Already 
there  was  developed  among  Republicans  some  opposition  to  the  re-election 
of  Mr.  Madison,  owing  to  his  conciliator}-  course,  and  his  opposition  to  war 
measures.  The  leaders  of  the  part}'  in  New  York  proposed  the  name  of 
De Witt  Clinton,  then  lieutenant-governor  of  that  state  and  mayor  of  New  York 
city;  a  man  of  influence,  who  stood  high  in  council,  and  whose  convictions 
would  have  hesitated  not  a  moment  in  resenting  the  aggressions  of  Great 
Britain.  Mr.  Madison  was  waited  upon  by  a  delegation  of  his  friends,  who 
informed  him  of  the  state  of  affairs,  and  assured  him  that  unless  he  was  pre 
pared  to  declare  war  against  England,  neither  his  nomination  nor  election 
could  be  relied  upon.  He  quickly  decided  to  acquiesce  in  the  will  of  his 
friends,  and  use  his  best  endeavors  in  furtherance  of  an  object  for  which  he 
had  no  taste,  but  which  seemed  the  only  course  to  pursue. 

Previous  to  this  there  had  been  several  changes  in  the  cabinet  :  James 
Monroe  had  succeeded  Robert  Smith  as  secretary  of  state,  in  November, 
and  William  Pinkney  had  succeeded  Cujsar  A.  Rodney  as  attorney-general 
in  December,  181  I.  The  secretaries  of  war  and  the  navy  were  not  fitted  for 
the  duties  pertaining  to  their  office  in  time  of  war.  Mr.  Monroe  was  the 
only  member  of  the  cabinet  who  had  an}'  military  experience,  and  his  expe 
rience  was  limited  to  a  short  term  of  service  in  the  revolutionary  war.  With 
such  officers  at  the  head  of  these  departments,  it  was  doubtful  if  efficiency 
could  be  had. 

No  change  in  the  policy  of  Great  Britain  toward  the  United  States 
having  taken  place,  on  the  4th  of  .April,  1812,  an  embargo  of  sixty  days 
was  laid  on  vessels  of  the  United  States. 

Louisiana  was  set  off  and  admitted  into  the  union  as  a  state  on  the  8th 
of  April,  1812,  and  by  a  subsequent  act  the  remainder  of  the  Louisiana  ter 
ritory  was  organized  as  the  Missouri  territory.  Many  important  acts  were 
passed  by  this  Congress,  among  which  was  one  for  the  apportionment  of 
representatives  in  accordance  with  the  census  of  1810.  The  President 
transmitted  a  special  message  to  Congress  on  the  1st  of  June,  in  which  he 
reviewed  the  difficulties  which  existed  with  Great  Britain.  This  message 

o 

was  referred  to  the  committee  on   foreign   relations,  a  majority   of  whom 


484  JAMES    MADISON. 

agreed  upon  and  reported  to  the  House  a  manifesto,  as  the  basis  of  a  decla 
ration  of  war.  The  reasons  given  for  this  procedure  were  in  substance  as 
follows:  "The  impressment  of  American  seamen  by  the  commanders  of 
British  ships  of  war  ;  the  British  doctrine  and  system  of  blackade;  and  the 
adoption  and  continuance  of  the  orders  in  council  of  that  government,  which 
operated  to  the  interruption  and  injury  of  American  commerce."  To  this 
was  added  a  long  unsatisfied  demand  for  remuneration  on  account  of  depre 
dations  committed  on  private  property  in  the  seizure  and  confiscation  of 
merchant  vessels.  Then  followed  the  proceedings  which  eventuated  in  a 
declaration  of  war,  the  House  in  the  meantime  sitting  with  closed  doors. 
The  measure  was  adopted  by  a  vote  of  seventy-nine  to  forty-nine.  In  the 
Senate  a  delay  of  fourteen  days  ensued,  when  the  act  was  adopted  by  a  vote 
of  nineteen  to  thirteen.  The  President  signed  the  declaration  on  the  i8th  of 
June.  It  was  prepared  by  the  attorney-general,  William  Pinkney,  and  is  as 
as  follows  : 
"A/i  act  declaring  war  between  the  United  Kingdom  of  Great  Britain  and 

Ireland,   and  the  dependencies  thereof,  and  the  United  States  of  America 

and  the  territories  thereof. 

"Be  it  enacted,  etc.,  That  war  be,  and  the  same  is  hereby  declared  to 
exist  between  the  United  Kingdom  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland,  and  the 
dependencies  thereof,  and  the  United  States  of  America  and  their  territories; 
and  that  the  President  of  the  United  States  is  hereby  authorized  to  use  the 
whole  land  and  naval  force  of  the  United  States  to  carry  the  same  into 
effect,  and  to  issue  to  private  armed  vessels  of  the  United  States,  commis 
sions,  or  letters  of  marque  and  general  reprisal,  in  such  form  as  he  shall 
think  proper,  and  under  the  seal  of  the  United  States,  against  the  vessels, 
goods,  and  effects  of  the  government  of  said  United  Kingdom  of  Great 
Britain  and  Ireland,  and  the  subjects  thereof." 

Proclamation  was  immediately  made,  informing  the  people  of  the 
declaration  of  war,  and  calling  upon  them  to  sustain  the  cause  of  the  gov 
ernment  in  the  pending  conflict.  The  federalists,  and  others  who  were  not 
of  the  party  of  the  administration,  formed  an  organization  which  they 
called  the  "  peace  party,"  and  by  every  means  in  their  power  threw  obsta 
cles  in  the  way  of  prosecution  of  the  war.  There  were  many  among  the  more 
prominent  of  the  federalist  party,  who,  when  they  found  the  government 
disposed  to  push  the  war  with  vigor  and  persistence,  gave  it  all  their 
strength  and  support. 

Had  the  declaration  of  war  been  delayed  but  five  days,  it  is  probable 
the  country  would  have  been  saved  great  loss  of  life,  immense  expense,  and 
untold  suffering.  The  British  government  had  from  August,  1810,  until 
May,  1812,  refused  to  credit  the  representations  made  by  the  American 
ministers  that  the  Berlin  and  Milan  decrees  had  been  annulled,  until  they 
were  convinced  that  the  revocation  was  absolute  and  not  conditional.  On  re- 


IX    PRESIDENT    JEFFERSON'S    CABINET.  485 

ceiving  official  intelligence  from  France  that  the  decrees  had  been  definitively 
revoked,  the  orders  in  council  had  been  suspended,  and  information  to  that 
effect  was  at  once  forwarded  to  America,  where  it  was  received  just  five  days 
too  late  to  prevent  hostilities. 

The  forces  of  England  being  largely  employed  in  the  war  on  the 
continent,  it  was  nearly  seven  months  before  an}*  decisive  measures  were 
taken  in  the  American  war.  The  blockade  of  the  Chesapeake  was  not  pro 
claimed  until  the  26th  of  December,  1812;  the  English  manifesto  was  not 
issued  until  January  9,  1813;  the  British  naval  forces  did  not  arrive  until 
early  in  February,  1813.  By  the  2Oth  of  March  the  entire  coast  of  the 
United  States  was  blockaded,  with  the  exception  of  Rhode  Island,  Massa 
chusetts,  and  New  Hampshire,  these  being  excepted  with  tiie  obvious  inten 
tion  of  sowing  dissensions  among  the  states.  Several  attempts  were  made 
to  procure  a  suspension  of  hostilities  and  the  restoration  of  peace:  one  by 
Sir  George  Prevost,  governor  of  Canada,  and  one  by  Admiral  Warren,  com 
manding  the  British  fleet  in  American  waters.  These  were  of  no  avail, 
however,  the  principle  for  which  the  country  was  now  fighting,  being  the 
rights  of  her  seamen,  in  resisting  the  British  code  of  impressment;  other 
demands  having  been  allowed. 

It  is  impossible  in  sketching  the  leading  incidents  in  the  life  of  James 
Madison,  also  to  write  a  detailed  history  of  the  war  which  occurred  during 
his  administration.  Seldom,  indeed,  did  he  allow  the  opinions  of  others  to 
overrule  his  own  matured  judgment.  In  the  case  in  hand  he  yielded  to 
purely  part)'  influence,  because  he  believed  it  would  strengthen  both  the 
party  and  his  administration  ;  besides,  he  desired  the  honor  of  a  second 
term  as  President,  which  had  been  accorded  Washington  and  Jefferson,  both 
natives  of  Virginia.  When  once  pledged  to  the  war,  he  gave  to  it  the  best 
of  his  abilities,  which  in  this  one  direction  were  not  cultivated.  He  had 
always  deprecated  war,  and  when  it  was  forced  upon  him,  did  not  at  once 
see  the  proper  course  to  pursue.  A  portion  of  his  cabinet  was  not  what  it 
should  be  in  an  emergency,  but  two  changes  were  made  in  January,  1813, 
by  which  General  .Armstrong,  the  late  minister  to  France,  succeeded  Dr. 
Eustis  as  secretary  of  war,  while  the  secretary  of  the  navy  was  succeeded 
by  William  Jones,  of  Pennsylvania. 


JAMES    MADISON, 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

MADISON7'S  SECOND  TERM  AS  PRESIDENT— LAST  YEARS  OF  HIS  LIFE, 

THE  Presidential  contest  of  1812  resulted  in  the  re-election  of  James 
Madison  as  President,  with  Elbridge  Gerry  as  Vice  President.  In 
this  contest  Mr.  Madison  overcame  the  disaffected  of  his  own  part}',  and 
the  federalists,  who,  at  separate  conventions,  had  united  in  the  nomination 
of  DeWitt  Clinton,  of  New  York.  The  inaugural  ceremonies  were  held 
in  the  hall  of  the  House  of  Representatives,  on  the  4th  of  March,  1813, 
and  were  attended  by  large  numbers  of  citizens. 

The  season  of  1812  had  been  one  of  reverses  to  the  American  arms  on 
the  land,  while  on  the  sea  the  small  navy  had  won  for  itself  glory  and 
renown.  General  Hull  had  invaded  Canada,  and  shortly  retired  to  Detroit, 
which  post  he  disgracefully  surrendered  in  August.  The  naval  victories  had 
been  the  capture  of  the  British  frigate  Gucrriere,  by  the  Constitution,  Captain 
Hull,  August  1 8th;  the  surrender  of  the  British  brig  Frolic  to  the  Ameri 
can  sloop-of-war  Wasp,  Captain  John  Paul  Jones;  the  capture  of  the  British 
frigates  Macedonia  and  Java  by  the  Constitution,  commanded  first  by  Cap 
tain  Decatur,  and  later  by  Commodore  Bainbritlge. 

A  proposition  of  mediation  between  the  belligerents  was  made  by  the 
Emperor  Alexander,  through  the  Russian  minister  at  Washington,  March  8 
1813;  Albert  Gallatin,  John  Quincy  Adams,  and  James  A.  Bayard  were 
appointed  commissioners  to  negotiate  a  peace  through  this  mediation.  Mr. 
Adams  was  already  in  Russia,  and  the  remaining  commissioners  sailed  under 
a  flag  of  truce,  arriving  in  the  Baltic  in  June.  The  Russian  mediation  was 
declined  by  Great  Britain  in  September,  1813,  but  on  the  4th  of  November, 
Lord  Castlereagh  informed  the  government  that  Great  Britain  was  willing  to 
enter  upon  a  direct  negotiation  for  peace.  This  proposition  was  accepted 
by  the  president,  and  Ghent,  in  Belgium,  was  decided  upon  as  the  place  for 
holding  the  conference. 

The  invasion  of  Canada  was   renewed   in    1813,  General  Dearborn  cap- 


SECOND    TERM    AS    PRESIDENT.  487 

turing  York  (now  Toronto),  and  Fort  George.  In  January  General  Win- 
Chester,  with  a  force  of  about  eight  hundred  men,  fought  a  battle  with  the 
British  and  Indians  at  the  River  Raisin,  and  was  forced  to  surrender.  In 
September,  1813,  the  small  fleet  of  Commodore  Perry  captured  the  British 
fleet  on  Lake  Krie,  and  soon  after  General  Harrison  defeated  the  British 
and  Indians  under  Proctor,  in  the  battle  of  the  Thames,  in  Canada,  the  chief 
Tecumseh,  being  among  the  killed.  In  the  southern  part  of  the  United 
States  the  war  with  the  Creek  Indians  was  brought  to  a  close,  by  the  army 
under  General  Jackson.  On  the  ocean  the  British  brig  Peacock  was  captured 
by  the  American  sloop-of-war  Hornet,  commanded  by  Captain  Lawrence. 
That  brave  officer  was  soon  after  killed,  and  the  frigate  Constitution,  to  which 
he  had  been  promoted,  captured  in  an  engagement  with  the  British  frigate 
Shannon;  the  British  brig  Pelican  captured  the  American  brig  Argus,  Captain 
Allen  ;  the  British  brig  Iloxcr  was  captured  by  the  American  brig  Enter 
prise,  commanded  by  Lieutenant  Burrows,  who  was  killed  in  the  action. 
I  hiring  the  year  1813,  the  frigate  I^sscx,  commanded  by  Captain  Por 
ter,  in  a  cruise  in  the  Pacific  ocean,  captured  and  armed  nine  large  Kngiish 
vessels,  worth  a  total  sum  of  two  millions  of  dollars.  Of  this  fleet  Captain 
Porter  was  for  some  time  commodore,  during  that  time  capturing  and 
destroying  many  of  the  enemy's  vessels.  The  frigate  l^rcsiiicnt,  Captain 
Rodgers,  and  the  Congress,  Captain  Smith,  also  made  main-  captures.  In 
the  course  of  a  year  the  American  navy  and  privateers  captured  more  than 
seven  hundred  British  vessels. 

British  successes  on  the  coast  were  much  more  numerous  in  the  year 
1814,  than  at  any  time  before  ;  several  towns  were  bombarded  and  burned, 
and  much  property  destroyed.  The  successes  of  the  British  troops  on  the 
continent,  under  Wellington,  followed  by  the  peace  of  Paris  in  this  year, 
relieved  the  flower  of  their  army,  and  considerable  detachments  of  veterans 
were-  transported  to  .America;  the  armies  in  Canada  were  strengthened  and 
preparations  made  for  an  invasion  of  the  United  States  from  that  quarter. 
In  July  Generals  Scott  and  Ripley  captured  the  British  fort  Fric,  opposite 
Buffalo.  Two  days  later,  on  the  5th  of  July,  the  same  commanders  met 
and  defeated  the  British  army  under  General  Rial.  July  -5th  occurred  the 
battle  of  Lundy's  Lane,  in  which  the  American  force,  consisting  of  four 
thousand  men,  under  General  Brown,  assisted  by  Generals  Scott  and  Rip- 
lex',  fought  the  British  army  of  more  than  five  thousand  men.  The  Amer 
icans  remained  in  possession  of  the  field.  During  the  summer  the  British 
invaded  the  United  States  by  way  of  Lake  Champlain,  and  attacked  the 
American  forces  at  Plattsburg  ;  their  fleet  on  the  lake  was  defeated  by  Com 
modore  Macdonough,  and  the  army  was  compelled  to  retire,  after  losing  in 
killed,  wounded,  and  deserters,  two  thousand  five  hundred  men. 

The  most  disgraceful  and  unnecessary  act  of  the  war  was  the  sacking 
and  burning  of  the  capital.  On  the  lyth  of  August,  a  British  force  of  five 


488  JAMES    MADISON. 

thousand  men,  under  General  Ross,  sailed  up  the  Chesapeake  bay  and  Poto 
mac  river,  disembarked,  and  proceeded  by  way  of  Bladensburg  toward 
Washington.  At  the  former  place  they  were  met  and  opposed  by  a  small 
body  of  sailors  and  marines,  but  the  opposition  was  futile,  and  the  enemy 
marched  directly  to  the  capital,  where  the  public  buildings  were  sacked 
and  burned,  and  many  private  dwellings  and  business  houses  despoiled  of 
their  contents,  an  act  which  was  strongly  condemned  in  the  British  house  of 
commons  by  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  who  said  it  was  "an  enterprise  which 
most  exasperated  a  people  and  least  weakened  a  government  of  any  re 
corded  in  the  annals  of  war. "  The  greatest  loss  to  the  country  that  accrued 
from  this  invasion  was  the  burning  and  destroying  of  many  valuable  public 
records,  and  documents,  which  it  is  impossible  to  replace.  Preceding  the 
battle  of  Bladensburg,  the  President,  with  the  secretaries  of  state,  navy, 
and  war,  went  to  the  front  to  take  such  measures  as  were  best  calculated  to 
retard  the  advance  of  the  enemy,  and  narrowly  escaped  capture;  Mrs.  Madi 
son  was  left  at  the  executive  mansion,  where  she  saw  the  plate  and  valuables 
belonging  to  the  establishment  conveyed  to  a  secure  place,  before  herself 
seeking  safety  in  flight.  After  sacking  and  burning  as  they  were  disposed, 
the  invading  army  set  out  with  the  intention  of  attacking  Baltimore,  but 
learning  that  the  city  was  well  defended  by  militia,  they  paused  to  bombard 
fort  McHenry.  In  a  slight  skirmish,  the  British  commander,  General  Ross, 
was  killed,  and  the  enemy  soon  after  left  the  Chesapeake. 

The  British  navy  was  not  idle  during  this  time,  but  by  means  of  supe 
rior  numbers  was  enabled  to  cripple  and  well  nigh  destroy  the  commerce  of 
the  country,  besides  capturing  several  war  vessels  and  privateers.  The 
American  vessels  that  were  so  fortunate  as  to  escape  the  blockade,  did  great 
damage  to  the  enemy's  commerce,  and  captured  a  number  of  men-of-war  of 
different  grades. 

The  crowning  victory  of  the  army  was  accomplished  by  General  Andrew 
Jackson,  at  Newr  Orleans,  on  the  8th  of  January,  1815.  With  six  thousand 
men,  mostly  volunteers,  he  defeated  a  picked  British  army  of  twelve  thou 
sand  men,  fresh  from  their  victory  over  Bonaparte,  killing  seven  hundred 
and  wounding  one  thousand  more,  the  commander  in  chief,  General  Pack- 
enham,  being  among  the  former,  and  Generals  Gibbs  and  Keene,  among  the 
severely  wounded. 

In  September,  1813,  the  British  minister,  Lord  Castlereagh,  informed 
the  American  government  that  England  was  ready  to  enter  upon  direct 
negotiation  looking  toward  peace.  With  that  object  in  view  President  Madi 
son  appointed  the  following  commissioners  to  proceed  to  Ghent:  John 
Quincy  Adams,  James  A.  Bayard,  Henry  Clay,  Jonathan  Russell,  and 
Albert  Gallatin.  Three  of  these, — Adams,  Gallatin,  and  Bayard, — were  first 
appointed  as  a  commission  to  serve  under  the  mediation  of  the  emperor  of 
Russia.  Mr.  Gallatin,  the  secretary  of  the  treasury,  and  Henry  Clay,  the 


SECOND    TERM    AS    PRESIDENT.  489 

speaker  of  the  House  of  Representative  resigned  to  accept  of  the  com 
mission.  In  August,  1814,  they  met  in  Ghent,  the  British  commissioners, 
Lord  Gambler,  Mr.  II.  Gouldburn,  and  Mr.  William  Adams.  On  the  24th 
of  August  the  commissioners  sent  in  their  first  report,  in  which  they  said: 
"The  causes  of  the  war  between  the  United  States  and  Great  Britain  having 
disappeared,  by  the  maritime  pacification  of  Europe,  the  government  of  the 
United  States  does  not  desire  to  continue  it  in  defense  of  abstract  principles, 
which  have,  for  the  present,  ceased  to  have  any  practical  effect.  The  under 
signed  have  been  accordingly  instructed  to  agree  to  its  termination,  both 
parties  restoring  whatever  they  may  have  taken,  and  both  resuming  all  their 
rights,  in  relation  to  their  respective  seamen."  Mr.  Monroe,  the  secretary 
of  state,  had  already  instructed  the  commissioners,  under  date  June  27, 

1814,  as  follows:    "On    mature   consideration,    it    has    been    decided,    that 
under  all  the  circumstances  above  alluded  to,  incident   to   a   prosecution    of 
the  war,  you  may  omit  any  stipulation    on   the   subject  of  impressment,    if 
found  indispensably  necessary  to  terminate  it."     The  British  commissioners, 
finding  the  American  envoys,  as  they  believed,  anxious  to  accept  almost  any 
form   of    peace    proposition,    became    very   extravagant    in    their   demands, 
report  of  which  being  made  in   the    United   States,    great   indignation    was 
aroused.      The  most  lukewarm   supporters   of  the    administration    decidedly 
objected  to   the  acceptance  of  any  of  the   propositions  of  the    British    com 
missioners.      It  being  the  opinion  of  the    government  that  peace  was  yet  in 
the  remote  future,  active   preparations   for  war   were   continued.      A   direct 
tax  of  six  millions  of  dollars. was  laid,  and  various  projects  were  entertained 
for  increasing  the  efficiency  of  the  army,  and  the  means  of  the  government 
for  its  support. 

A  number  of  changes  occurred  in  the  composition  of  the  cabinet,  dur 
ing  the  years  1814  and  1815.  To  quote  from  the  Statesman's  Manual: 
"The  office  of  secretary  of  the  treasury  being  declared  vacant  by  the  Sen 
ate,  in  consequence  of  the  absence  of  Mr.  Gallatin  as  one  of  the  commis 
sioners  to  negotiate  a  treaty  of  peace,  George  \Y.  Campbell,  of  Tennessee, 
was  appointed  secretary  of  that  department,  on  the  Qth  of  February,  1814. 
Ill  health  compelled  Mr.  Campbell  to  resign  in  September,  and  Alexander 
J.  Dallas  was  appointed  secretary  of  the  treasury,  October  6,  1814.  Gen 
eral  Armstrong  resigned  as  secretary  of  war,  in  September,  1814,  and  Mr. 
Monroe,  secretary  of  state,  acted  as  secretary  of  war  until  February  28, 

1815,  when    he    was    re-commissioned    as   secretary    of  state.      \\illiam    II. 
Crawford,  who  had  been   appointed  minister  to  France  on  the  9th  of  April, 
1813,  on    his    return    from    that   mission    was   appointed   secretary    of  war, 
August  I,  1815.      On  the  Ujth  of  December,  1814,   Benjamin  Crowninshield, 
of  Massachusetts,  was  appointed  secretary  of  the  navy,  in  place  of  William 
Jones,  icsiirned.      Gideon    Grander,   who   had  held  the  orifice  of  postmaster- 

*  O  O 

general  more  than  twelve  years,  was  removed  by  Mr.  Madison,  and  Return 


490  JAMES    MADISON. 

Jonathan  Meigs  (governor  of  Ohio),  appointed  in  his  place,  on  the  i/th  of 
March,  1814.  Richard  Rush,  of  Pennsylvania,  was  appointed  attorney-gen 
eral,  in  place  of  William  Pinkney,  resigned,  February  10,  1814.  Jonathan 
Russell  was  nominated  as  minister  to  Sweden,  arid,  after  some  delay,  con 
firmed  by  the  Senate  on  the  i8th  of  January,  1814;  at  the  same  time  he 
was  confirmed  as  one  of  the  commissioners  to  iiegotiate  a  treaty  of  peace 
with  Great  Britain.  Some  of  these  changes,  and  those  formerly  noticed, 
during  the  administration  of  Mr.  Madison,  occurred  in  consequence  of  dis 
sensions  and  dissatisfaction  among  tke  leaders  of  the  democratic  party,  in 
Congress  and  in  the  cabinet." 

Early  in  February,  1815,  information  was  received  at  Washington  that  a 
treaty  of  peace  had  been  signed  at  Ghent,  on  the  24th  of  December,  1814; 
the  treaty  was  at  once  ,  communicated  by  the  President  to  the  Senate, 
and  was  by  that  body  immediately  ratified.  Soon  after  this  ratification,  a. 
convention  was  held  in  London  for  the  formation  of  a  commercial  treaty, 
the  American  commissioners  being  Messrs.  Adams,  Gallatin,  and  Clay.  A 
treaty  prepared  by  them  and  three  commissioners  of  Great  Britain,  to  con 
tinue  in  force  four  years,  was  signed  in  July.,  and  soon  after  ratified  by  both 
governments. 

The  war  with  Great  Britain  had  emboldened  the  piratical  Algerines, 
who  took  advantage  of  the  opportunity  to  capture  such  American  vessels  as 
came  in  their  way,  and  condemn  their  crews  to  slavery.  Immediately  on 
the  close  of  the  war,  in  May,  1815,  Commodore  Decatur,  in  command  of  a 
fleet  of  nine  vessels,  was  dispatched  to  the  Mediterranean,  to  punish  these 
depredators.  Several  Algerine  vessels  of  war  were  captured,  and  in  the 
absence  of  their  fleet,  Decatur  entered  the  port  of  Algiers,  and  dictated 
terms  to  the  dey,  who  on  the  3Oth  of  June  signed  d,  treaty  honorable  to  the 
Americans,  by  which  all  captives  were  to  be  released  without  ransom  ;  and 
compensation  made  for  all  vessels  and  property  taken.  For  seventeen  years 
the  United  States  had  paid  twenty-three  thousand  dollars  annually,  for  the 
preservation  of  peace  ;  this  wras  forever  abolished  by  the  treaty. 

The  democratic  majority  in  the  fourteenth  Congress  was  slightly 
increased  at  the  session  of  1815-16.  Mr.  Clay  had  returned  from  Europe, 
and  again  been  chosen  to  represent  his  former  constituents  in  Kentucky,  and 
for  a  third  time  was  elected  speaker.  The  system  of  duties  and  taxes  was 
revised,  and  limited  protection  afforded  American  manufacturers ;  not 
enough,  however,  to  be  of  much  avail  in  encouraging  that  class  of  industry, 
\vhich  was  soon  almost  suspended,  from  the  excessive  importation  of  cheap 
foreign  articles.  A  national  bank  was  incorporated  in  1816,  to  continue  for 
a  period  of  twenty  years,  with  a  capital  of  thirty-five  million  dollars.  The 
sum  of  two  hundred  thousand  dollars  was  appropriated  to  provide  arms  and 
equipments  for  the  militia.  The  territory  of  Indiana  was  authorized  to 
form  a  constitution  and  state  government,  preparatory  to  admission  into  the 


LATER    DAYS    OF    HIS    LIFE.  49 1 

Union.  The  relations  with  Spain  were  also  subject  of  discussion,  but  no 
definite  result  was  attained  during  Mr.-  Madison's  administration.  Before 
the  close  of  the  first  session,  a  caucus  of  democratic  members  of  Congress 
was  held,  for  the  nomination  of  President  and  Vice  President.  An  effort 
was  made  to  change  the  established  custom  of  nomination  by  representa 
tives  in  Congress,  as  inexpedient,  but  it  was  defeated.  It  was  the  evident 
wish  of  Mr.  Madison  that  the  first  place  on  the  ticket  be  given  Mr.  Monroe, 
his  secretary  of  state.  This  developed  considerable  opposition,  man}'  mem 
bers  feeling  that  as  Virginia  had  furnished  the  President  for  twenty-four  out 
of  twenty-eight  years,  other  states  of  the  Union  were  justly  entitled  to  that 
honor.  Democratic  members  of  the 'legislature  of  New  York  proposed  the 
name  of  their  governor,  Daniel  D.  Tompkins,  but  the  opposition  finally 
settled  upon  William  II.  Crawford,  of  Georgia,  who  had  been  minister  to 
France,  and  later  secretary  of  war  under  Mr.  Madison.  The  caucus  gave 
the  nomination  to  James  Monroe  for  President,  and  to  Daniel  I).  Tomp 
kins  for  Vice  President.  These  candidates  were  elected  by  one  hundred 
and  eighty-three  votes  in  the  electoral  college,  and  on  the  4th  of  March, 
1817,  took  their  respective  seats  as  the  head  of  a  ne\v  administration. 

Mr.  Madison  had  faithfully  served  his  country  in  her  hour  of  peril,  and 
now  that  peace  was  accomplished,  and  the  country  on  the  highway  to  pros 
perity,  he  willingly  laid  a>ule  the  cares  of  government  and  retired  to  the 
life  of  a  private  citi/en,  with  the  love  and  confidence  of  the  greater  portion 
of  the  American  people. 

The  close  of  his  Presidential  term  was  the  termination  of  Mr.  Madison's 
public  labors,  with  one  or  two  exceptions.  In  1829  he  was  a  member  of 
the  convention,  to  frame  a  new  constitution  for  the  commonwealth  of  Vir 
ginia,  and  \vas  urgently  requested  to  accept  the  office  of  president  of  the 
convention,  but  respectfully  declined  the  honor,  proposing  instead,  the 
name  of  his  old-time  friend  and  successor  in  the  presidency,  James  Mon 
roe,  who  was  elected  to  the  position. 

Following  the  inauguration  of  Mr.  Monroe  to  the  Presidency,  Mr. 
Madison  retired  to  his  farm  at  Montpelier,  where  he  found  employment  fcr 
the  mind  and  exercise  for  the  body  in  conducting  the  affairs  of  his  large 
estate.  Agriculture  had  charms  for  him,  equalled  only  by  his  delight  in 
literature;  the  former  became  his  employment,  the  latter  his  recreation. 
After  the  death  of  his  friend,  Thomas  Jefferson,  Mr.  Madison  was  appointed 
to  the  head  of  the  University  of  Virginia,  with  the  unobtrusive  title  of 
rector;  he  was  also  the  president  c  f  an  agricultural  society  in  his  native 
county,  and  while  occupying  that  chair  delivered  an  address  which  was 
replete  with  practical  suggestions. 

In  the  full  ripeness  of  years,  James  Madison  died  on  the  28th  of  June, 
1836,  aged  eighty-five  years. 

In   his  personal   appearance    Mr.    Madison  was  short  in  stature,  with  a 


492  JAMES    MADISON. 

form  indicative  of  good  living  ;  the  crown  of  his  head  bare,  and  his  hair 
carefully  brushed  and  powdered.  In  debate  he  was  slow  in  speech,  but 
always  direct  and  to  the  point.  During  his  term  as  President  he  was  bur 
dened  with  responsibilities, and  on  his  retirementfrom  office  had  a  careworn 
appearance.  As  a  writer  he  had  few  equals,  no  superiors,  among  American 
statesmen.  His  essays  in  the  Federalist  are  models  of  diction,  logic,  and 
thought ;  his  correspondence  has  justly  been  admired,  and  his  state  docu 
ments  are  admirable  examples  of  their  kind.  At  the  time  of  his  death  he 
was  the  last  survivor  of  the  signers  of  the  Constitution,  of  which  he  was 
one  of  the  framers.  From  the  ability  with  which  he  defended  it,  and  the 
fidelity  with  which  he  adhered  to  its  provisions,  he  was  called  the  a  Father 
of  the  Constitution." 

The  services  performed  by  James  Madison  to  his  country,  and  his  emi 
nent  qualities  of  intellect  and  patriotism,  were  fully  recognized  by  the 
generation  which  viewed  his  exit  from  the  stage  of  action  ;  and  many  were 
the  evidences  chronicled  of  that  fact.  From  an  extended  summary  of  his 
character  and  work,  in  an  oration  delivered  by  William  H.  MacFarland  of 
Virginia  upon  the  occasion  of  his  death,  the  following  pertinent  points  are 
taken:  It  would  be  no  less  interesting  than  calculated  to  deepen  our  im 
pressions  of  his  activity  and  influence,  to  notice  the  important  agency 
which  he  had  in  the  settlement  of  the  .numerous  subjects  which  claimed 
the  immediate  attention  of  congress  under  the  new  government.  Time, 
however,  does  not  permit.  But,  as  illustrating  his  great  anxiety  to  redeem 
the  Constitution  from  just  objections  by  guarding  against  the  danger  of 
perverting  or  abusing  its  powers,  it  should  be  mentioned  that,  at  the  first 
congress,  he  introduced  and  carried  a  proposition  for  its  amendment,  by 
the  addition  of  several  new  articles.  The  proposition  was  ratified  by  the 
legislatures  of  three-fourths  of  the  states,  and  thus  made  a  part  of  the 
Constitution.  A  later  and  yet  more  memorable  instance  of  similar  public 
service  was  the  resolutions  of  '98  and  the  report  of  '99,  known  as  Madi 
son's  resolutions  and  report.  He  had  been  long  admired  as  an  author 
and  advocate  of  the  Constitution,  but  was  then  to  appear  in  the  new  char 
acter  of  commentator,  and  impartially  to  unfold  its  meaning  and  define 
the  limits  of  the  authority  of  the  government.  It  was  at  a  period  of  ex 
citement;  questions  of  deep  import  distracted  the  public  councils  and  agi 
tated  the  people;  and  in  the  opposing  divisions,  on  either  side,  were  many 
of  those  who  had  assisted  in  laying  the  foundations  of  our  civil  fabrics. 
At  that  critical  juncture  the  public  mind  of  his  own  state  was  in  a  condi 
tion  of  peculiar  exacerbation.  He  was  called  once  more  to  the  legislature, 
to  exert  his  benign  influence  in  composing  popular  uneasiness,  and  to 
rescue  the  Constitution  from,  as  was  believed,  imminent  peril.  The  man 
ner  in  which  he  met  the  occasion  and  disposed  of  the  grave  subject  marked 
a  new  era  in  the  politics  of  the  country. 


DIPLOMATIC    RELATIONS WAR.  4Q3 

Mr.  Madison  was  secretary  of  state  at  a  period  when  the  diplomatic 
relations  of  the  government  were  especially  critical  and  unsettled.  And 
when  he  was  advanced  to  that  higher  station,  the  highest  to  which  his 
country  could  elevate  him  as  a  pledge  of  her  affection  and  the  proof  of 
her  reliance  upon  his  wisdom,  the  administration  of  the  government  \\  as 
signally  arduous  and  responsible.  For  his  administration  it  was  reserved 
to  commit  the  government  to  that  last  and  severest  of  all  trials — war  with 
a  nation  strong  in  her  resources  and  proud  in  her  military  renown.  Look 
ing  back  upon  his  long  career  of  public  service,  as  he  passed  from  one 
high  trust  to  another  yet  more  responsible,  what  is  there  wanting  to  com 
plete  his  title  to  be  considered  as  the  benefactor  of  his  country?  What  to 
secure  the  fame  to  which  a  patriot  may  aspire,  and  is  a  patriot's  reward? 
On  what  occasion  was  he  unequal  to  the  exigency,  and  what  state  exigency 
did  he  not  encounter?  When  his  career  commenced  you  were  without  a 
Constitution;  your  government  without  authority;  and  the  times  were 
portentous  of  instant  and  fearful  disclosures.  Aided  by  his  compatriots, 
he  gave  you  a  Constitution,  an  efficient  government  and  union;  and  with 
these  he  added  what,  in  a  peculiar  and  emphatic  sense,  was  his  own — the 
example  of  an  upright  and  conscientious  functionary.  None  ever  imputed 
the  existence  of  a  selfish  or  mercenary  or  factious  motive,  or  complained 
that  he  was  willful  and  had  disregarded  the  public  interest,  or  impatient 
and  had  mistaken  it.  The  scrupulous  regard  to  the  minutest  propriety, 
which  was  conspicuous  in  his  private  relations,  was  exhibited  in  all  his 
official  acts.  Sensible  that  our  institutions  have  no  other  foundation  tl.an 
the  attachment  and  confidence  of  the  people,  he  endeavored  to  confirm 
that  attachment  and  confidence  by  the  mild,  impartial,  conscientious  and 
dignified  manner  in  which  he  administered  the  powers  with  which  he  was 
invested. 

The  last  public  scene,  the  speaker  continued,  in  which  he  appeared, 
passed  in  our  immediate  view.  You  well  remember  the  venerable  appear 
ance  of  the  venerable  man.  The  spirit  of  earlier  days  gleaming  in  his 
aged  bosom,  he  came  up  to  assist  the  men  of  another  generation  in  revis- 
in<r  and  amending  their  Constitution.  The  interest  of  the  occasion  derived 

o  ^ 

additional  solemnity  from  the  union  with  him  and  two  others,  alike  the 
relics  of  a  former  age,  memorable  for  the  variety  and  extent  of  their  pub 
lic  service,  and  venerable  for  every  virtue  and  excellence.  More  than  forty 
years  had  intervened  since  they  last  met  in  convention.  Again  they  met 
in  convention,  for  the  last  time,  mutually  esteemed  and  honored  by  one 
another.  Thus  closed  the  public  life  of  the  aged  Madison — the  end  in 
perfect  harmony  with  the  beginning.  He  had  occupied  the  highest  sta 
tions  to  which  a  citizen  may  aspire,  and  possessed  an  influence  that  the 
personal  consideration  in  which  he  was  held  carried  beyond  the  limits  of 
official  importance  ;  but  such  was  his  unaffected  modesty,  he  seemed  un- 


494  JAMES    MADISON. 

conscious  of  his  honors  and  concerned  about  nothing  but  his  duties.  The 
example  of  a  high  functionary  is  scarcely  less  important  than  his  official 
acts  ;  the  errors  and  aberrations  of  a  private  citizen,  at  most,  but  disturb 
the  current  of  public  sentiment,  whilst  those  of  leading  men  tend  to  cor 
rupt  the  fountain.  Madison  was  conspicuous  for  grace,  propriety  and 
dignity,  no  less  than  for  clear  and  thorough  comprehension  of  the  com 
plicated  and  arduous  subjects  of  civil  policy,  and  the  ability  and  energy  of 
his  labors.  On  the  various  theatres  that  brought  him  in  connection  and 
often  in  collision  with  the  first  men  of  the  age,  th?ai  which  no  age  has 
been  illustrated  by  a  greater  variety  and  splendor  of  endowment,  moral 
and  intellectual,  he  displayed  a  capacity  for  public  business  which  always 
placed  him  in  the  first  rank,  and  the  admiration  which  his  talents  attracted 
mingled  with  respect  and  esteem  for  his  virtues.  It  was  the  disinterested 
and  chastened  public  spirit,  of  which  his  daily  life  was  the  witness,  that 
fitted  him  for  the  singular  success  which  attended  his  efforts,  and  gave  him 
power  to  prevail  over  minds  preoccupied  with  opposing  opinions.  It  was 
impossible  to  see  him  without  being  struck  by  his  modest  and  unpretend 
ing  manner,  which  in  a  measure  concealed  his  talents  and  virtues,  nor  to 
meet  him  in  private  without  being  cheered  and  enlightened  by  his  pres 
ence.  His  fame  is  engraved  on  the  polished  pillars  that  support  the 
noblest  fabvic  which  man  has  constructed,  and  as  often  as  we  admire  its 
beauty,  and  glory  in  its  being  the  strength  and  ornament  of  our  land,  we 
should  think  of  the  accomplished  and  devoted  artist,  and  if  we  may  not 
aspire  to  his  mental  eminence,  emulate  and  practice  his  virtues.  Full  of 
years,  time  having  ratified  the  beneficence  of  his  plans  for  the  welfare  of 
his  fellow-men,  he  was  gathered  to  his  fathers.  But  he  yet  survives  in 
the  institutions,  in  the  renown,  and  in  the  affections  of  his  country.  He 
sought  in  life  no  distinction  but  that  which  might  attend  the  unremitted 
devotion  of  his  time  and  powers  to  civil  and  religious  freedom.  He  asked 
nothing  in  return  but  a  father's  request,  accompanied  by  a  father's  bless 
ing,  that  his  country  would  be  faithful  to  her  obligations. 


JAMES   MONROE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

REVOLUTIONARY  SERVICE  ELECTED  TO  CONGRESS. 

REMARKABLE  it  is  that  of  the  five  early  Presidents  of  the  United 
States  four  were  natives  of  Virginia,  born  within  a  radius  of  thirty 
miles,  on  the  strip  of  land  lying  between  the  Potomac  and  Rappahannock 
rivers,  in  the  locality,  then  as  now,  known  as  the  "northern  neck."  These 
four,  who  became  so  intimately  connected  with  the  events  that  changed  the 
destinies  of  the  country,  and  built  the  greatest  republic  in  the  world  from 
the  scattered  and  dependent  colonies  of  Great  Britain,  were  descended  from 
the  best  blood  of  England  ;  though  brought  up  in  the  precept  that  next  to 
their  God  stood  the  king,  the  inherited  spirit  that  sought  freedom  of  con 
science  in  the  wilderness  of  the  new  world,  in  them  developed  into  defiance 
of  oppression  and  injustice.  The  first  of  the  Presidents  was  already  grown 
to  man's  estate  and  had  entered  upon  the  active  duties  of  life — in  the  lonely 
camp  of  the  surveyor,  or  directing  the  hastily  levied  militia  of  the  colony 
against  the  savage  foe  hovering  on  her  border,  and  incited  to  acts  of  vio 
lence  and  deeds  of  cruelty  by  an  alien  power;  Jefferson  and  Madison  were 
engaged  in  study,  the  future  full  of  promise,  before  them,  at  the  time  of  the 
birth  of  one  who  was  to  be  intimate!}'  associated  with  them  in  the  stirring 
scenes  of  war,  and  the  exciting  events  with  the  formation  of  the  govern 
ment. 

James  Monroe  was  descended  from  one  of  the  early  and  honorable 
families  of  Virginia.  lie  was  born  April  28,  1/58,  in  the  county  of  West 
moreland,  Virginia,  his  father  being  Spence  Monroe,  his  mother  Elizabeth 
jonc?.  As  was  usually  the  case  in  the  ancient  Virginian  families,  he  was 


496  JAMES    MONROE. 

earl}*  encouraged  to  study,  and  while  a  mere  youth  entered  the  college  of 
William  and  Mary.  His  early  life  was  passed  in  the  midst  of  the  stirring 
scenes  that  preceded  the  declaration  of  independence,  the  stamp  act  being 
passed  when  he  was  not  six  years  of  age.  The  conversation  of  those  about 
him,  and  the  sentiments  he  heard  expressed,  aroused  in  him  the  same 
spirit  of  indignation  at  the  injustice  and  oppression  of  the  king  and  ministry 
that  pervaded  the  minds  and  hearts  of  all  in  the  commonwealth,  who  loved 
liberty  and  freedom.  It  is  not  strange  that  the  hardships  of  war  had  a 
greater  fascination  for  him  than  the  tame  and  irksome  duties  of  school, 
especially  when  united  with  devotion  to  the  cause  in  which  the  patriots  were 
engaged.  Before  the  age  of  eighteen  he  left  the  quiet  college  halls  and  set 
out  for  the  headquarters  of  Washington,  already  in  the  field,  though  the 
declaration  of  independence  was  but  just  made.  He  was  soon  commis 
sioned  lieutenant,  and  participated  in  the  battles,  privations,  and  defeats  of 
the  army  during  the  gloom  and  despondency  of  the  year  I//6;  at  the  bat 
tles  of  the  Heights  of  Harlem,  at  White  Plains,  and  again  at  Trenton,  he 
bravely  resisted  the  enemy.  In  the  latter  action  he  received  a  wound,  the 
scar  of  which  he  carried  during  the  remainder  of  his  life.  Recovery  was 
rapid,  and,  returning  to  his  command,  he  was  commissioned  captain  of  in 
fantry,  and  again  entered  upon  active  service.  His  gallantry  commended 
him  to  his  superior  officers,  and  during  the  campaigns  of  1777  and  1778  he 
was  detached  an  aide  to  General  Lord  Stirling.  In  becoming  a  staff  officer 
he  receded  from  the  line  of  promotion,  and  though  he  distinguished  himself 
on  the  fields  of  Brandywine,  Germantown,  and  Monmouth,  by  conspicuous 
bravery,  he  could  not  attain  to  higher  rank  than  he  then  held.  Recogniz 
ing  this  fact  he  sought  to  regain  his  standing  in  the  line  of  promotion,  and 
with  this  in  view  endeavored  to  raise  a  regiment  of  troops  under  the  recom 
mendation  of  General  Washington,  and  by  authority  of  the  legislature. 
That  he  failed  in  this  undertaking  was  no  fault  of  his  own,  the  country  at 
that  time  being  well  nigh  drained  of  her  able-bodied  men,  who  had  already 
taken  up  arms  in  defense  of  their  liberties. 

Several  times  he  responded  to  the  call  for  volunteers,  in  opposing  the 
invasions  of  the  enemy  under  Arnold,  Cornwallis,  and  Tarleton,  on  which 
occasions  he  rendered  efficient  service  in  organizing  the  raw  militia,  on 
which  alone  the  state  depended  for  protection.  After  the  fall  of  Charleston, 
in  1780,  he  was  appointed  military  commissioner  in  the  Carolinas,  and  was 
instructed  to  obtain  information  as  to  the  force  that  could  be  depended  upon 
in  an  effort  to  repel  the  invaders.  This  called  for  a  journey  to  the  region  of 
country  occupied  by  the  contending  armies,  where  he  performed  the  duties 
required  of  him  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  governor,  by  whom  he  was 
appointed.  Following  his  retirement  from  the  army,  Mr.  Monroe  entered 
upon  the  study  of  law  under  direction  of  Mr.  Jefferson,  who  was  then 
governor  of  the  state.  Faithfully  he  pursued  the  course  of  study  indi- 


REVOLUTIONARY    SERVICE.  497 

cated  by  his  preceptor,  and  though  not  engaged  in  active  practice  for  any 
length  of  time,  the  discipline  and  knowledge  of  law  he  there  acquired, 
proved  of  inestimable  value  in  the  legislative,  diplomatic,  and  state  ques 
tions  in  which  he  afterwards  took  so  important  a  part. 

His  prominence  in  military  matters,  intimate  connection  with  the  gov 
ernor  of  the  commonwealth,  and  the  standing  of  his  family,  together  with 
his  own  well  known  worth,  brought  him  before  the  people  of  the  section  in 
which  was  his  home,  and  in  1782  he  was  chosen  a  member  of  the  legis 
lature  by  the  county  of  King  George.  Taking  his  seat  in  that  body,  he  was 
soon  elected  by  his  fellow-members  one  of  the  governor's  executive  council. 
Such  rare  tact  and  discrimination  did  he  evince  in  the  places  to  which  he 
had  been  called,  as  to  induce  the  legislature  to  elect  him,  while  yet  in  his 
twenty-fourth  year,  a  delegate  to  represent  the  state  in  the  Congress  of  the 
confederation,  immediately  succeeding  James  Madison.  The  restrictions 
imposed  by  Great  Britain  upon  commercial  intercourse  with  her  West 
India  possessions  was  at  this  time  attracting  much  attention  from  states 
men,  both  north  and  south.  Soon  after  taking  his  seat  in  Congress,  in 
December,  1784,  Mr.  Monroe  wrote  his  predecessor,  Mr.  Madison,  soliciting 
a  free  interchange  of  sentiments  with  regard  to  this  question;  he  afterward, 
in  1785,  brought  forward  a  proposition  for  such  amendment  of  the  articles 
of  confederation  as  should  vest  in  Congress  the  power  of  regulating  com 
merce  with  foreign  nations,  subject  to  certain  qualifications.  He  also  pre 
pared  an  address  to  the  legislatures  of  the  different  states,  in  support  of  the 
proposition  he  had  advanced,  which  was  taken  up  by  Congress,  from  time  to 
time,  for  consideration,  but  was  never  agreed  upon.  A  copy  of  this  address 
he  forwarded  to  Mr.  Madison,  with  a  request  that  he  reply  by  letter,  giving 
his  views  on  the  subject  discussed.  This  request  Mr.  Madison  complied 
with  within  a  few  days  after  receipt  of  the  address,  in  a  long  and  compre 
hensive  letter,  discussing  the  state  of  affairs  without  reserve,  and  giving 
utterance  to  some  of  the  opinions  that  afterwards  influenced  and  guided  him 
in  the  convention  which  framed  the  Constitution.  The  acquaintance  of 
these  two  was  begun  at  Richmond  a  year  previous  to  this  time.  This  soon 
ripened  into  friendship,  which  grew  and  strengthened  with  their  continuence 
in  public  life,  and  though  personally  opposed  in  some  important  measures, 
it  was  never  suffered  to  diminish.  Their  correspondence  began  in  Novem 
ber,  1774,  while  Mr.  Monroe  was  in  Congress  at  Trenton,  at  which  time  he 
sent  Mr.  Madison  a  cipher  to  be  used  in  confidential  communications,  when 
ever  deemed  necessary. 

Foreign  relations  were  standing  subject  of  discussion  in  the  Congress  at 
this  time,  the  course  pursued  by  Great  Britain  in  refusing  to  surrender  cer 
tain  posts  on  the  borders  of  the  United  States,  as  contemplated  in  the 
treaty  of  peace,  as  well  as  the  restrictions  upon  commerce  with  the  \\  est 
Indies,  being  prominent  features.  The  claim  of  Spain  to  exclusive  control 


498  JAMES    MONROE. 

of  the  waters  of  the  Mississippi,  produced  a  critical  state  of  affairs  with  that 
country.  Then,  as  now,  foreign  appointments  were  a  prolific  source  of  dis 
sension,  and  almost  before  the  formation  of  parties,  lines  began  to  be  drawn 
in  the  appointment  of  foreign  ministers  and  envoys.  The  friends  of  Mr. 
Jefferson  proposed  him  as  a  suitable  person  for  appointment  as  minister  to 
France,  where  he  had  already  passed  some  months  as  one  of  the  commis 
sioners  to  negotiate  treaties  of  commerce  with  the  nations  of  Europe. 
Persons  inimical  to  Mr.  Jefferson,  and  those  who,  as  Mr.  Monroe  declared, 
desired  the  appointment  for  themselves  or  their  friends,  insisted  that  the 
mission  to  Spain  was  of  paramount  importance,  and  must  of  necessity  be 
first  disposed  of;  that  Mr.  Jefferson  was  the  only  proper  person  for  that 
mission,  and  therefore  urged  his  appointment.  Among  those  classed  by 
Mr.  Monroe  as  aspirants  for  the  mission  to  France,  for  themselves  or  their 
friends,  were  Robert  R.  Livingston,  and  Richard  Henry  Lee,  who  on  other 
questions  were  opponents,  but  in  assigning  Mr.  Jefferson  to  Spain  were  for 
once  agreed.  In  a  long  letter  to  Mr.  Madison  he  presented  these  views,  and 
also  expressed  his  opinions  regarding  the  feeling  of  Great  Britain  toward 
the  United  States.  He  said  on  this  point:  "My  letter  to  Governor  Har 
rison  gave  you  what  had  taken  place  in  Canada.  I  am  strongly  impressed 
with  the  hostile  dispositions  of  the  court  toward  us.  Not  only  what  I  saw, 
but  the  information  of  all  the  American  gentlemen  lately  from  Great 
Britain,  confirms  it;  and  particularly  one  of  Maryland,  one  of  Pennsylvania, 
and  Mr.  Laurens,  who  is  now  with  us.  The  former  two  have  lately  returned 
to  the  continent.  We  are  certainly  in  no  condition  for  war  ;  and,  while  we 
preserve  the  honor  and  dignity  of  the  United  States,  must  earnestly 
endeavor  to  prevent  it.  If  Great  Britain  will  comply  with  the  conditions  of 
the  late  treaty, — as  we  must,  on  our  part,  do  what  it  enjoins, — our  situation 
is  as  happy  as  we  could  expect  it.  The  sooner  we  are  ascertained  on  this 
point,  the  better  it  will  be  for  us." 

In  reply  Mr.  Madison  wrote  under  date  January  8,  1/85,  first  taking  up 
the  question  of  foreign  appointments,  in  which  he  deprecated  the  contests 
of  ambition  they  engendered,  and  concluded  that  they  should  be  as  infre 
quent  as  possible,  in  order  to  insure  stability  in  the  principles  sought  to  be 
adopted.  Regarding  the  fears  of  Mr.  Monroe  that  war  was  imminent  with 
Great  Britain,  he  expressed  doubts,  but  agreed  that  the  policy  of  adjusting 
all  differences  should  be  followed,  without  sacrificing  honor.  The  contest 
with  Spain,  he  thought,  had  "a  more  dangerous  root."  He  said  ;  "The 
use  of  the  Mississippi  is  given  by  nature  to  our  western  country,  and  no 
power  on  earth  can  take  it  from  them.  While  we  assert  our  title  to  it, 
therefore,  with  a  becoming  firmness,  let  us  not  forget  that  we  cannot  ulti 
mately  be  deprived  of  it ;  and  that,  for  the  present,  war  is  more  than  all 
things  to  be  deprecated." 

The  dissensions  raised  by   the  rival  aspirants  for  foreign  appointment, 


ELECTED    TO    CONGRESS. 


499 


were  not  settled  for  more  than  two  months,  during  which  time  Congress  was 
kept  in  constant  turmoil.  At  length,  on  the  24th  of  February,  1/85,  a 
commencement  was  made  by  the  appointment  of  John  Adams,  of  Massa 
chusetts,  to  the  court  of  St.  James.  This  was  followed,  on  the  loth  of 
March,  by  the  appointment  of  Thomas  Jefferson  as  minister  to  France. 
Mr.  Jay  had  entered  upon  the  duties  of  secretary  of  legation  at  the 
court  of  Spain,  in  December,  to  which  office  he  had  been  appointed  the 
preceding  May,  and  was  there  continued,  no  minister  being  appointed  for 
the  time  being.  The  deficient  accommodations  afforded  Congress  at  Tren 
ton  had  resulted  in  its  removal  to  New  York,  where  it  re-assembled  in  Janu 
ary,  1 1,  1/85. 

In  a  letter  to  his  friend  Madison,  dated  the  I4th  of  August,  1/85,  Mr. 
Monroe  thus  recurs  to  the  subject  uppermost  in  his  mind,  the  proposal  to 
add  to  the  enumerated  powers  of  Congress,  the  regulation  of  commerce: 
"The  report  upon  the  ninth  article  of  confederation  will  not,  I  believe,  be 
finally  determined  until  the  winter.  It  will,  however,  probably  be  taken  up 
for  the  sake  of  investigation,  and  be  committed  to  the  journals  for  public 

inspection If  this  report  should  be  adopted,  it   gives  a   tie 

to  the  confederation  which  it  hath  not  at  present,  nor  can  have  without  it. 
It  gives  the  state  something  to  act  upon, — the  means  by  which  it  may  bring 
about  certain  ends.  Without  it,  God  knows  what  object  they  have  before 
them,  or  how  each  state  will  move,  so  as  to  move  securely  with  respect  to 
federal  or  state  objects."  In  the  support  of  these  views  Mr.  Monroe  was 
sustained  by  Washington,  Jefferson,  and  Madison,  neither  of  whom  was 
however,  in  a  position  to  assist  him  with  his  vote.  Congress  finally 
declined  to  take  final  action  on  the  report,  deeming  it  proper  that  the  prop 
osition  for  the  increase  of  its  powers  should  come  from  the  legislatures. 
The  question  was  brought  forward  in  the  Virginia  house  of  delegates  by 
Mr.  ^ladison,  and  though  not  adopted,  led,  in  the  end,  to  steps  that 
resulted  in  the  calling  of  the  convention  that  framed  the  Constitution.  That 
the  question  at  issue  had  a  grave  bearing  on  the  cohesion  of  the  states,  was 
more  than  once  proved.  In  a  letter  from  Mr.  Monroe  to  Mr.  Madison, 
under  date  March  iS,  1786,  he  thus  relates  the  action  of  New  Jersey  con 
cerning  a  requisition  of  Congress,  in  which  the  legislature  resolved  that, 
"  having  entered  into  the  confederation  upon  terms  highly  disadvantageous 
to  them,  from  the  necessity  of  public  affairs,  and  a  confidence  that  those 
points  in  which  they  were  aggrieved  would  be  remedied,  and,  finding  that 
this  was  not  the  case,  and  that  a  compact,  founded  in  such  unequal  princi 
ples,  was  likely  to  be  fettered  upon  them,  they  would  not  comply  with  the 
requisition,  until  their  grievances  were  redressed."  A  committee  from  Con 
gress  procured  a  recession  of  the  resolution,  but  not  a  compliance  with  the 
requisition  for  supplies.  A  little  more  than  a  year  later  a  similar  charge  was 
preferred  against  Connecticut,  in  the  constitutional  convention,  which  charge 


5OO  JAMES    MONROE. 

was  not  denied  by  the  representatives  of  that  state,  then  present ;  all  which 
goes  to  show  that  agitation  of  the  subject  of  change  in  the  government  was 
begun  none  too  early.  The  matter  wras  tersely  summed  up  in  a  letter  of 
Mr.  Madison,  written  April  9,  1786,  in  which  he  said:  "The  question, 
whether  it  be  possible  and  worth  while  to  preserve  the  union  of  the  states, 
must  be  speedily  decided  some  way  or  other.  Those  who  are  indifferent 
to  its  preservation  would  do  well  to  look  forward  to  the  consequences  of  its 
extinction.  The  prospect,  to  my  eye,  is  a  gloomy  one,  indeed." 

Closely  following  these  events  came  another  circumstance  calculated  to 
impair  the  harmony  that  had  already  been  so  severely  shaken.  This  was 
the  difficulty  with  Spain  regarding  the  occupation  of  the  Mississippi  river, 
which,  at  one  time,  seemed  likely  to  result  in  open  war.  The  eastern 
states  were  willing  to  abandon  all  claim  to  the  occupancy  of  the  Mississippi, 
while  Virginia,  claiming  large  territory  on  the  western  bank  of  the  Ohio, 
would  consent  to  no  arrangement  that  would  preclude  access  to  a  market  in 
the  south ;  Kentucky  was  no  less  earnest  in  opposition  to  any  treaty  that 
would  limit  her  occupancy  of  the  Mississippi.  Mr.  Jay  was  instructed  to 
enter  into  treaty  negotiations  with  the  minister  of  Spain,  his  acts  to 
be  subject  to  the  approval  of  Congress.  In  May,  1786,  he  addressed  a 
communication  to  the  president  of  Congress,  recommending  the  appoint 
ment  of  a  committee,  which  should  be  empowered  "to  instruct  and  direct 
him  on  every  point  relative  to  the  proposed  treaty  with  Spain."  The  ques 
tion  wras  brought  before  the  House,  and  a  committee  consisting  of  Mr. 
King,  of  Massachusetts;  Mr.  Pettit,  of  Pennsylvania;  and  Mr.  Monroe,  was 
appointed.  Mr.  Jay's  plan  was  to  enter  into  commercial  stipulations, 
granting  Spain  exclusive  control  of  the  Mississippi  river  for  a  period  of 
twenty-five  or  thirty  years.  Strong  efforts  were  made  by  the  friends  of  Jay 
to  bring  the  treaty  to  a  successful  termination,  but  stronger  efforts  were 
made  against  any  action  that  should  limit  the  extension  of  the  powers  of  the 
government  to  all  parts  of  the  west  and  southwest,  and  eventually  the  lat 
ter  prevailed. 


ELECTED  TO  STATE  LEGISLATURE.  501 


CHAPTER  II. 

ELECTED    TO  STATE  LEGISLATURE     OPPOSITION  TO    FEDERAL    CONSTITUTION- 
APPOINTED   MINISTER  TO   FRANCE. 

ALMOST  at  the  outset  of  his  Congressional  career  Mr.  Monroe  accepted 
an  appointment,  together  with  eight  other  distinguished  men,  as  mem 
bers  of  a  federal  court  to  adjust  certain  long-standing  differences  between 
Massachusetts  and  New  York.  The  court  was  continued  during  two  years, 
without,  however,  accomplishing  the  object  in  view,  which  was  finally  settled 
by  the  two  states  themselves,  in  1786;  soon  thereafter  Mr.  Monroe  resigned 
his  commission.  His  term  as  a  member  of  Congress  expired  late  in  this 
year,  and  he  removed  to  Fredericksburg,  with  the  view  of  engaging  in  the 
practice  of  law,  to  which  he  had  already  devoted  several  years  of  prepara 
tion.  Very  soon  after  opening  a  law  office,  he  was  elected  a  member  of  the 
legislature,  which  met  at  Richmond,  the  I5th  of  October,  1787.  Consid 
eration  of  the  new  Constitution,  which  had  been  framed  by  the  convention 
of  1787,  and  duly  signed  the  i/th  day  of  September,  was  to  be  had  in  con 
vention  of  delegates  of  the  state,  to  be  held  in  Richmond  on  the  2d  day 
of  June,  i/SS,  and  great  activity  was  displayed  by  men  of  all  shades  of 
opinion,  in  the  election  of  delegates.  Mr.  Madison,  as  a  leader  in  the  con 
vention  that  framed  the  Constitution,  and  its  most  active  promoter,  was 
elected  a  tick-gate  to  the  state  convention.  Mr.  Monroe  was  believed  to  be 
a  friend  to  the  Constitution,  though  a  cool  one.  In  a  letter  to  Mr.  Madi 
son,  dated  October  13,  1787,  he  said:  "There  are,  in  my  opinion,  some 
strong  objections  against  the  project,  which  I  will  not  wear}'  you  with  a 
detail  of;  but,  under  the  predicament  in  which  the  Union  now  stands,  and 
this  state  in  particular,  with  respect  to  this  business,  they  are  overbalanced 
by  the  arguments  in  its  favor."  At  the  election  of  delegates,  which  took 
place  in  January,  Mr.  Monroe  was  chosen  from  the  county  of  Spottsylvania. 
The  assembling  of  the  convention  developed  the  fact  that  he  was  to  be 
classed  among  the  opponents  of  the  measure,  with  powerful  associates  in 


JAMES    MONROE. 

the  persons  of  Patrick  Henry,  Colonel  Mason,  Mr.  Grayson,  Colonel  Ben 
jamin  Harrison,  and  Mr.  Tyler.  Regarding  the  confederation,  he  said  in  con 
vention  :  "I  consider  it  void  of  energy,  and  badly  organized.  ...  I  am 
strongly  impressed  with  the  necessity  of  having  a  firm,  national  government; 
but  I  am  decidedly  against  giving  the  power  of  direct  taxation,  because  I 
think  it  endangers  our  liberties.  My  attachment  to  the  Union  and  an  ener 
getic  government  is  such,  that  I  would  consent  to  give  the  general  govern 
ment  every  power  contained  in  the  plan,  except  that  of  direct  taxation." 

While  he  believed  the  articles  of  confederation  possessed  radical  defects, 
he  feared  the  Constitution  allowed  Congress  too  extended  powers,  that 
might  be  used  to  the  manifest  disadvantage  of  certain  of  the  states  ;  also 
that  the  legislative  and  executive  departments  were  not  guarded  by  suffi 
cient  checks,  and  a  proper  responsibility.  "  When  once  elected,"  he  said, 
"  the  President  may  be  elected  for  ever."  That  this  fear  influenced  the 
votes  of  many  delegates,  in  other  of  the  states  as  well  as  in  Virginia,  is 
undoubtedly  true ;  but,  thanks  to  the  patriotism  of  George  Washington,  the 
first  President  under  the  Constitution,  and  his  immediate  successors,  such 
has  never  been  the  case,  and  in  all  probability  never  will  be. 

A  day  or  two  later  he  was  called  upon  in  committee  of  the  whole,  as 
also  was  his  colleague,  Mr.  Grayson,  to  give  in  detail  the  efforts  made  in 
Congress  to  conclude  the  treaty  with  Spain.  The  action  of  seven  of  the 
states  in  voting  to  accept  a  treaty  giving  Spain  control  of  the  Mississippi, 
was  dwelt  upon,  showing  how  a  majority  of  the  states  could,  in  emergency, 
control  legislation  ;  and  even  pass  laws  that  W7ould  seriously  injure  the  com 
merce  of  their  neighbors.  This  was  brought  forward  to  influence  delegates 
to  vote  against  ratification  without  amendment,  and  was  used  to  the  best 
advantage  by  Mr.  Henry  and  others  who  were  arrayed  against  the  Constitu 
tion.  Notwithstanding  the  determined  opposition  to  ratification  of  many 
of  the  most  powerful  men  in  the  convention,  it  was  impossible  to  over 
come  the  clear  and  logical  arguments  presented  by  Mr.  Madison,  and  the 
proposition  favoring  immediate  ratification  was  carried  by  a  vote  of  eighty- 
nine  to  seventy-nine.  In  accordance  with  the  course  he  had  pursued 
throughout  the  convention,  Mr.  Monroe  voted  in  the  negative. 

The  adoption  of  the  Constitution  by  the  requisite  number  of  states 
assured,  the  election  of  senators  and  members  of  the  House  of  Representa 
tives  followed.  Mr.  Madison  was  proposed  as  senator,  and  in  the  house  of 
representatives  of  the  state  was  defeated  by  five  votes  only.  In  apportion 
ing  the  districts  of  the  state,  efforts  were  made  by  Patrick  Henry  and  others 
who  had  become  embittered  against  him,  to  so  arrange  them  as  to  defeat 
Mr.  Madison  in  a  re-election  to  the  national  House  of  Representatives. 
Monroe  was  nominated  as  his  opponent  because  of  his  popularity  with  the 
people,  and  also  because  in  the  convention  he  had  voted  with  the  element  that 
opposed  ratification  of  the  Constitution.  The  few  weeks  preceding  the  elec- 


ELECTED    TO    STATE    LEGISLATURE.  503 

tion  were  spent  in  active  canvass  of  the  field,  both  by  Monroe  and  Madison ; 
on  one  occasion  they  met  in  discussion,  on  a  cold  January  day,  and  addressed 
the  people  from  the  portico  of  a  Lutheran  meeting-house,  after  the  close  of 
religious  service.  Such  was  the  severity  of  the  day  that  Madison's  ear 
was  frost-bitten,  and  in  after-life  he  was  wont  laughingly  to  point  to  the  scar 
as  an  honorable  mark  received  in  battle.  Monroe  did  not  seem  so  much 
affected  by  the  cold,  on  this  occasion  ;  but  in  the  election  he  was  defeated. 
In  writing  to  Jefferson  a  few  weeks  afterward,  Madison  said  :  "It  gives  me 
great  pleasure  to  inform  you,  that  the  friendship  of  Monroe  and  myself  has 
not  been  affected,  in  any  degree,  by  our  late  political  opposition." 

The  death  of  Mr.  Grayson,  who  had  been  elected  to  the  Senate  in 
November,  1788,  caused  a  vacancy  in  the  representation  of  Virginia  in  that 
body,  and  Colonel  John  Walker  was  temporarily  assigned  to  the  place  by 
the  governor,  until  the  meeting  of  the  legislature,  when  James  Monroe 
was  elected  senator.  He  took  his  seat  in  1790,  and  shared  in  the  dis 
cussions  that  arose  over  the  incorporation  of  the  national  bank.  Part}' 
lines  were  already  drawn,  and  the  names  federalist  and  republican  given  the 
two  divisions  to  distinguish  them.  Of  the  latter  party  Mr.  Monroe  became 
a  prominent  member,  and  soon  an  acknowledged  leader  in  the  Senate, 
in  which  bod}*  he  remained  until  the  close  of  his  term  in  1794,  opposed  to 
the  administration  of  President  Washington  as  influenced  by  Alexander 
Hamilton,  secretary  of  the  treasury.  At  the  close  of  his  term  as  senator  he 
was  appointed  minister  to  France,  relieving  Gouverneur  Morris,  whose 
recall  the  French  republic  had  requested.  In  the  selection  of  Mr.  Monroe 
for  this  trust,  the  President  plainly  expressed  the  sentiments  which  actuated 
him  ;  in  the  instructions  he  gave  the  new  minister  he  announced  to  the 
world  the  feeling  of  regard  he  had  for  the  success  and  perpetuation  of  the 
republic.  The  minister  was  told  that  "the  President  has  been  an  earl}'  and 
decided  friend  of  the  French  revolution  ;  he  is  immutable  in  his  wishes  for 
its  accomplishment,  and  persuaded  that  success  will  attend  it."  Regard 
ing  Jay's  mission  to  London,  Monroe  was  requested  to  say,  that  "he  is 
positively  forbidden  to  weaken  the  engagements  between  this  country  and 
France  ;  "  "you  will  be  amply  justified  in  repelling  with  firmness  any  impu 
tation  of  the  most  distant  intention  to  sacrifice  our  connection  with  France 
to  any  connection  with  Lngland.  .  .  .  Vou  go,  sir,  to  France,  to 
strengthen  our  friendship  with  that  country  ;  you  will  let  it  be  seen  that,  in 
case  of  war  with  any  nation  on  earth,  we  shall  consider  France  as  our  first 
and  natural  all}'.  You  ma}'  dwell  upon  the  sense  we  entertain  of  past  ser 
vices,  and  for  the  more  recent  interposition  in  our  behalf  with  the  dey  of 
Algiers."  Truly  a  friendly  feeling  was  expressed  by  the  great  chief  for  the 
country  that  was  the  home  of  main-  who  shared  with  him  the  perils  and 
hardships  of  the  war  of  independence.  Afterward  the  President's  sentiments 
seem  to  have  undergone  a  change,  caused  no  doubt,  in  part,  by  the  excess^ 


504  JAMES    MONROE. 

connected  with  the  revolution  in  France,  and  partly  by  a  feeling  that  the 
opportunity  for  the  conclusion  of  a  treaty  of  commerce  with  Great  Britain 
should  not  be  allowed  to  pass  unimproved. 

On  his  arrival  in  Paris  August  2,  1794,  Mr.  Monroe  was  everywhere 
received  with  demonstrations  of  respect  and  affection.  Twelve  days  later 
he  was  publicly  introduced  to  the  national  convention,  where  he  was  greeted 
by  its  president,  Merlin  de  Douay,  with  a  fervid  speech,  and  publicly 
embraced.  The  flags  of  the  two  countries  were  intertwined  in  the  halls  of 
the  assembly.  He  immediately  availed  himself  of  the  favorable  impression 
produced  to  enter  upon  the  business  of  his  mission.  In  this  he  was  very 
successful,  the  convention,  on  his  representations,  repealing  its  retaliatory 
decree,  passed  under  the  sting  of  the  British  orders  in  council,  which  sub 
jected  provisions  on  board  American  vessels  to  seizure  and  forced  sale. 
Promise  was  made  of  restitution  for  wrongs  already  done  ;  and  assurances 
of  friendly  aid  in  the  settlement  of  existing  difficulties  with  the  Barbary 
powers.  In  short,  as  in  his  report  Mr.  Monroe  said :  "Such  is  now  our 
situation  with  the  French  republic,  and  with  other  powers  so  far  as  depended 
on  the  French  republic,  that  there  is  but  one  point  upon  which  we  have 
cause  to  feel  or  express  any  solicitude, — which  is  that  it  may  not  vary." 

The  lavish  attentions  bestowed  upon  the  American  minister  by  the 
leaders  in  the  French  republic,  and  which  were  accepted  in  the  same  spirit 
which  prompted  them,  called  for  the  unqualified  disapproval  of  the  federalist 
members  of  President  Washington's  cabinet.  Pickering,  at  that  time  secre 
tary  of  state,  with  all  others  of  his  party,  had  strong  leanings  toward 
England,  and  a  cordial  hatred  of  everything  that  tended  to  strengthen 
friendly  relations  with  France.  Immediately  on  receipt  of  intelligence 
regarding  Monroe's  reception,  he  wrote  him,  strongly  censuring  him  for 
not  understanding  many  things  not  contained  in  his  written  instructions, 
and  which  would  have  been  in  direct  contradiction  of  his  rules  of  guidance. 
In  his  View  of  the  Conduct  of  the  Executive  in  the  Foreign  Affairs  of  the 
United  States,  published  after  his  return  from  France,  Mr.  Monroe  thus 
speaks  of  the  captious  communication  he  received  from  the  secretary  of 
state  :  "In  this  he  notices  my  address  to  the  convention  ;  as  also  my  letter 
to  the  committee  of  public  safety,  of  the  3d  of  September  following;  both 
of  which  acts  he  censures  in  the  most  unreserved  and  harsh  manner.  In 
the  first  he  charges  me  with  having  expressed  a  solicitude  for  the  welfare  of 
the  French  republic  in  a  style  too  warm  and  affectionate,  much  more  so  than 
my  instructions  warranted;  which,  too,  he  deemed  the  more  reprehensible, 
from  the  consideration,  that  it  was  presented  to  the  convention  in  public, 
and  before  the  world,  and  not  to  a  committee  in  a  private  chamber;  since 
thereby,  he  adds,  we  were  likely  to  give  offense  to  other  countries,  partic 
ularly  England,  with  whom  we  were  in  treaty;  and  since,  also,  the  dictates 


MINISTER    TO    FRANCE.  505 

of  sincerity  do  not  require  that  \ve  should  publish  to  the  world  all  our  feel 
ings  in  favor  of  France." 

In  the  same  convention  he  made  other  statements,  tending  to  show  the 
feelings  of  President  Washington  toward  France:  "My  instructions 
enjoined  it  on  me  to  use  my  utmost  endeavors  to  inspire  the  French 
government  with  perfect  confidence  in  the  solicitude  which  the  President  felt 
for  the  success  of  the  French  revolution,  of  his  preference  for  France  to  all 
other  nations  as  the  friend  and  ally  of  the  United  States  ;  of  the  grateful 
sense  which  we  still  retained  for  the  important  services  that  were  rendered 
us  by  France  in  the  course  of  our  revolution  ;  and  to  declare  in  explicit 
terms,  that  although  neutrality  was  the  lot  we  preferred,  yet  in  case  we 
embarked  in  the  war,  it  would  be  on  her  side  and  against  her  enemies,  be 
they  who  they  might."  This  statement  was  never  explicitly  denied  by 
Washington  ;  and  after  his  death  there  were  found  marginal  comments  in  a 

o  o 

volume  of  Monroe's  View,  contained  in  his  library,  which  seem  to  have 
been  written  under  the  influence  of  strong  feeling.  The}'  read  :  "And  is 
there  to  be  found  in  any  letter  from  the  government  to  him  a  single  senti 
ment  repugnant  thereto?  On  the  contrary,  are  not  the  same  exhortations 
repeated  over  and  over  again  ?  But  could  it  be  inferred  from  hence,  that, 
in  order  to  please  France,  we  were  to  relinquish  our  rights  and  sacrifice  our 
commerce?"  This  would  certainly  imply  that  Mr.  Monroe  was  correct  in 
the  interpretation  put  upon  his  instructions. 

Considerable  jealous)-  was  manifested  by  the  French  government  on  the 
subject  of  Mr.  Jay's  mission  to  Fngland.  In  accordance  with  his  instruc 
tions  Mr.  Monroe  informed  the  French  government  that  Mr.  Jay  was 
"positively  forbidden  to  weaken  the  engagements  between  America  and 
France."  On  this  point  he  too  literally  construed  his  instructions,  for  he 
assured  the  French  minister  that  Mr.  Jay  "  was  strictly  limited  to  demand 
reparation  of  injuries."  When,  therefore,  came  intelligence  that  the  minister 
to  England  had  concluded  a  treat)-  with  that  country  which  contained  stip 
ulations  injurious  to  French  interests,  Mr.  Monroe  for  a  time  quieted 
apprehension  by  citing  the  instructions  given  himself,  which  he  believed 
coincided  with  those  given  Mr.  Jay.  At  length,  on  the  24th  of  December, 
1794,  Mr.  Monroe  received  a  communication  from  the  committee  of  public 
safety,  requesting  a  copy  of  the  treaty  made  with  England,  that  they  might 
be  able  to  judge  for  themselvcs'regarding  its  bearing  on  French  interests 
To  this  he  replied,  that  he  had  received  from  Mr.  Jay  information  that  a 
treat}-  had  been  negotiated,  on  the  iQth  of  the  preceding  month,  which  con 
tained  an  express  declaration  that  "nothing  therein  should  be  construed  or 
operate  contrary  to  existing  treaties  between  the  United  States  and  other 
powers."  lie  also  added  that  he  was  as  yet  ignorant  of  the  express  pro 
visions  of  the  treat}-,  and  assured  the  committee  that  "as  soon  as  he  was 
informed  thereof,  he  would  communicate  the  same  to  them."  Application 


5C-6  JAMES    MONROE. 

was  made  to  Mr.  Jay  for  a  copy  of  the  treaty,  which  he  declined  to  furnish 
for  the  information  of  the  French  government,  but  intimated  that  he  would 
send  the  "principal  heads  of  it  confidentially."  Some  correspondence  fol 
lowed,  in  which  Mr.  Monroe  said  that  nothing  short  of  an  exact  copy  of  the 
treaty  would  satisfy  the  French  government,  and  allay  the  suspicion  that  it 
contained  provisions  injurious  to  them.  Finally,  Jay  proposed  to  furnish  an 
oral  communication  of  the  contents  of  the  treaty,  through  his  secretary, 
Colonel  Trumbull ;  which  could  not  be  received  as  it  was  clogged  with  con 
ditions,  both  inexpedient  and  improper  to  be  entertained.  It  was  finally 
communicated  to  an  American  resident  in  Paris,  by  him  taken  clown  in  writ 
ing,  and  in  this  roundabout  manner  reached  Mr.  Monroe.  The  treaty 
stipulations  did  not  come  to  the  knowledge  of  the  French  government  until 
they  had  been  received  and  printed  in  the  newspapers  in  the  United  States, 
and  through  that  channel  were  forwarded  to  Paris.  As  was  anticipated  by 
the  friends  of  the  treaty,  it  was  received  in  France  with  unqualified  censure, 
and  its  ratification  by  Congress  soon  brought  affairs  with  that  country  to  a 
crisis. 

France  had  a  short  time  before  this  adopted  a  new  constitution,  which 
went  into  effect  the  3ist  of  October,  1/95,  giving  the  control  of  govern 
mental  affairs  into  the  hands  of  a  director}'.  The  French  government,  after 
taking  three  months'  time  for  consideration  of  the  relations  that  would  fol 
low  the  ratification  of  Jay's  treaty,  informed  Mr.  Monroe  "  that  it  con 
sidered  the  alliance  between  the  two  countries  as  ceasing  to  exist  from  the 
moment  the  treaty  was  ratified  ;  and  would  appoint  an  envoy  extraordinary 
to  attend  and  represent  the  same  to  the  government  of  the  United  States." 
Mr.  Monroe,  feeling  assured  that  the  pleasant  relations  heretofore  existing 
between  the  two  governments  would  be  endangered  by  such  precipitate 
action,  earnestly  appealed  to  the  minister  of  foreign  affairs  to  forbear  imme 
diate  action.  The  minister  again  consulted  the  directory,  and  soon  after 
informed  Mr.  Monroe  that  they  were  disposed  to  accommodate  in  this  mat 
ter;  and  he  was  shortly  permitted  to  attend  a  council  consisting  of  the 
executive  body  and  the  ministers  of  foreign  affairs  and  marine.  The  same 
frank  and  manly  course  he  had  heretofore  pursued,  he  now  followed.  He 
proposed  that  the  complaints  of  the  French  government  be  made  to  him  in 
writing,  to  which  he  would  respond  in  fullness  and  candor;  and  that  "in 
the  meantime  the  directory  should  suspend  any  decision  with  regard  to  the 
merits  of  its  complaints  or  the  propriety  of  a  special  commission."  This 
request  was  courteously  complied  with,  several  of  the  members  of  the 
directory  expressing  with  great  earnestness  friendship  for  the  United  States. 

That  there  was  at  this  time  a  party  in  the  directory  favoring  a  declara 
tion  of  war  against  the  United  States,  is  the  testimony  of  a  learned  French 
historian;  and  that  this  party  was  led  by  the  president  of  that  body,  and 
followed  by  one  other,  is  assured  on  the  same  authority.  There  is  little 


MIMS1KK    TO    I-SAXCE.  j'j/ 

doubt  that  the  influence  of  Mr.  Monroe,  exerted  upon  the  three  remaining 
members,  had  the  effect  to  decide  against  such  action.  He  himself  held  to 
such  opinion,  as  witness  an  extract  from  a  private  letter  to  Mr.  Madison, 
written  February  27,  1796,  in  which  he  says:  "The  minister  declares  that 
he  prefers  to  have  us  open  enemies  rather  than  perfidious  friends.  Other 
proofs  occur  to  show  that  this  sentiment  has  gone  deep  into  their  councils." 
No  definite  action  was  taken  by  the  director}'  until  the  2d  of  July,  when  an 
arret  was  adopted  as  follows:  ".All  neutral  or  allied  powers  shall  without 
delay  be  notified,  that  the  flag  of  the  French  republic  will  treat  neutral  ves 
sels,  either  as  to  confiscations,  searches,  or  captures,  as  the}*  shall  suffer  the 
British  flag  to  treat  them." 

This  was  to  be  understood  as  meaning  that  French  privateers  and  men- 
of-war  would  thereafter  claim  the  same  right  as  enforced  by  England,  to 
seize,  search,  condemn,  and  sell  American  vessels  and  their  cargoes,  when 
in  the  judgment  of  their  captors  they  contained  as  cargo  an}-  provisions  or 
other  commodities  useful  to  themselves  or  their  enemies.  Mr.  Monroe  con 
tinued  watchfully  to  guard  the  interests  of  the  United  States  in  France,  and 
through  his  representations  was  instrumental  in  having  rescinded  the  appoint 
ment  of  a  minister  to  America,  whose  previous  proceedings  in  a  similar 
capacity  had  given  offence  to  the  government.  While  he  was  thus  giving 
his  best  service  to  his  country,  an  intrigue  was  taking  place  among  his  polit 
ical  enemies  to  compass  his  removal.  His  inability  to  reconcile  the  French 
<>'overnment  to  the  lav  treat v,  was  sufficient  to  increase  the  animosity 

o  J      *  *  * 

already  felt  against  him  by  Mr.  Pickering,  secretary  of  state,  and  Mr.  Wol- 
cott,  secretary  of  the  treasury.  The  latter  wrote  Colonel  Hamilton,  who 
had  some  time  before  had  a  controversy  with  Mr.  Monroe,  and  in  reply  re 
ceived  a  communication  recommending  his  immediate  recall.  The  Presi 
dent  was  constrained  to  assent  to  his  recall,  to  keep  a  semblance  of  har 
mony  in  the  cabinet,  and  he  received  notification  of  the  fact,  with  infor 
mation  of  the  appointment  of  Charles  Cotesworth  Pinckney  to  succeed 
him,  on  the  22d  of  August,  1796. 

Returning  to  .America  soon  after  the  appointment  of  his  successor,  he 
published  his  Views  of  the  Conduct  of  the  Executive  in  the  Foreign  Affairs 
of  the  United  States,  giving  an  explanation  of  his  opinions  and  proceedings 
relative  to  his  mission  in  France,  and  calling  in  question  the  consistency  of 
the  course  pursued  by  the  President.  His  recall  as  minister  did  not  affect 
his  personal  feeling  of  regard  for  his  old  commander,  whose  merits  and 
integrity  he  never  failed  in  acknowledging.  Nor  does  he  seem  to  have 
cherished  a  feeling  of  malice  against  Mr.  Jay,  for  his  course  regarding  the 
treaty  with  England,  but  left  on  record  testimony  to  his  pure  patriotism  and 
integrity  of  purpose. 


JAMES  MONROE, 


CHAPTER  III. 

ELECTED  GOVERNOR  OF  VIRGINIA-SPECIAL  ENVOY  TO  FRANCE-IN  MADISON'S 

CABINET. 

IT  was  but  a  short  time  after  his  return  from  France,  before  Mr.  Monroe 
was  again  called  upon  to  relinquish  the  practice  of  his  profession,  in 
which  he  had  immediately  engaged,  and  take  a  seat  in  the  legislature  of  Vir 
ginia.  Here  he  was  not  allowed  to  sink  into  obscurity  as  the  ''disgraced 
minister,"  but  in  1799  was  elected  governor  of  the  state.  The  duties  of  the 
office  were  not  onerous,  and  did  not  tend  to  bring  him  into  great  promi 
nence.  His  intimate  friend,  Thomas  Jefferson,  was  brought  forward  as  a  can 
didate  for  President,  and  with  Madison,  Giles,  Nicholas,  Taylor,  Mason, 
Tazewell,  and  other  young  and  brilliant  men,  Monroe  put  forth  all  the  efforts 
he  could  command  to  accomplish  his  election.  This  was  finally  deter 
mined,  after  a  long  and  bitter  contest  in  the  House  of  Representatives. 

Three  years  service  in  the  executive  office  followed  Mr.  Monroe's  elec 
tion  as  governor.  On  the  loth  of  January,  1802,  the  President  wrote  him 
that  his  name  had  been  presented  to  the  Senate  for  confirmation  as  special 
envoy  to  France,  with  power  to  conclude  a  treaty  of  purchase  of  the  territory 
of  Louisiana,  which  had  but  recently  passed  from  the  possession  of  Spain 
into  that  of  France.  Two  days  later  the  Senate  confirmed  his  appointment. 
It  was  by  no  means  certain  that  he  would  accept  of  the  mission,  and  on  the 
1 3th  of  January  Mr.  Jefferson  addressed  him  a  letter,  giving  his  reasons  for 
urging  acceptance  of  the  appointment.  So  good  an  idea  do  they  give  of 
the  condition  of  public  affairs  at  the  time  that  their  insertion  here  will  not 
be  out  of  place:  "The  agitation  of  the  public  mind  on  occasion  of  the  late 
suspension  of  our  right  of  deposit  at  New  Orleans  is  extreme.  In  the 
western  country  it  is  natural,  and  grounded  on  honest  motives.  In  the  sea 
ports  it  proceeds  from  a  desire  for  war,  which  increases  the  mercantile 
lottery  ;  in  the  federalists,  generally,  and  especially  those  of  Congress,  the 
object  is  to  force  us  into  war  if  possible,  in  order  to  derange  our  finances,  or 
if  this  cannot  be  done,  to  attach  the  western  country  to  them,  as  their  best 


SPECIAL   ENVOY   TO    FRANCE.  509 

friends,  and  thus  get  again  into  power.  Remonstrances,  memorials,  etc., 
are  now  circulating  through  the  whole  of  the  western  country,  and  signed 
by  the  body  of  the  people.  The  measures  we  have  been  pursuing,  being 
invisible,  do  not  satisfy  their  minds.  Something  sensible,  therefore,  has 
become  necessary  ;  and  indeed,  our  object  of  purchasing  New  Orleans  and 
the  Floridas  is  a  measure  liable  to  assume  so  many  shapes,  that  no  instruc 
tions  could  be  squared  to  fit  them.  It  was  essential,  then,  to  send  a  minister 
extraordinary,  to  be  joined  with  the  ordinary  one,  with  discretionary 
powers;  first,  however,  well  impressed  with  all  our  views,  and  therefore 
qualified  to  meet  and  modify  to  these  every  form  of  proposition  which  could 
come  from  the  other  part}'.  This  could  be  done  only  in  full  and  frequent 
oral  communications.  Having  determined  on  this,  there  could  not  be  two 
opinions  among  the  republicans  as  to  the  person.  You  possessed  the 
unlimited  confidence  of  the  administration  and  of  the  western  people;  and 
generally  of  the  republicans  everywhere  ;  and  were  you  to  refuse  to  go,  no 
other  man  can  be  found  who  does  this.  The  measure  has  already  silenced 
the  federalists  here.  Congress  will  no  longer  be  agitated  by  them  ;  and  the 
country  will  become  calm  as  fast  as  the  information  extends  over  it.  All 
eyes,  all  hopes  are  now  fixed  on  you;  and  were  you  to  decline,  the  chagrin 
would  be  universal,  and  would  shake  under  your  feet  the  high  ground  on 
which  you  stand  with  the  public.  Indeed,  I  know  nothing  which  would 
produce  such  a  shock.  For  on  the  event  of  this  mission  depend  the  future 
destinies  of  this  republic.  If  we  cannot,  by  a  purchase  of  the  country, 
insure  to  ourselves  a  course  of  perpetual  peace  and  friendship  with  all  na 
tions,  then  as  war  cannot  be  distant,  it  behooves  us  immediately  to  be 
preparing  for  that  course,  without,  however,  hastening  it;  and  it  may  be 
necessary  (on  your  failure  on  the  continent)  to  cross  the  channel.  We  shall 
get  entangled  in  European  politics,  and  figuring  more,  be  much  less  happy 
and  prosperous.  This  can  only  be  prevented  by  a  successful  issue  to  your 
present  mission.  I  am  sensible,  after  the  measures  you  have  taken  for  get 
ting  into  a  different  line  of  business,  that  it  will  be  a  great  sacrifice  on  your 
part,  and  presents,  from  the  season  and  other  circumstances,  serious  difficul 
ties.  Hut  some  men  are  born  for  the  public.  Nature,  by  fitting  them  for  the 
service  of  the  human  race  on  a  broad  scale,  has  stamped  them  with  the 
evidences  of  her  destination  and  their  duty." 

On  the  i6th  of  October,  1802,  a  proclamation  had  been  issued  by 
Morales,  the  Spanish  intentlent  of  Louisiana,  withdrawing  the  privilege  of 
deposit  at  New  Orleans,  which  by  the  treaty  of  1795  had  been  granted  the 
United  States  for  three  years.  This  complicated  affairs  with  Spain,  and 
produced  a  strong  feeling  of  hostility  against  that  country,  particularly 
throughout  Kentucky  and  that  portion  of  the  territory  contiguous  to  the 
Mississippi  and  its  tributaries.  Rumors  soon  after  reached  the  government 
that  the  territory  of  Louisiana,  or  what  was  called  the  western  portion 


5IO  JAMES    MONROE. 

of  the  Floridas,  had  been  ceded  by  Spain  to  France  by  a  secret  treaty.  On 
the  earliest  information  that  Spain  had  withdrawn  the  privilege  of  deposit, 
the  federalists  seemed  determined  to  incite  a  war  against  France  and  Spain. 
Measures  calculated  to  produce  this  were  brought  forward  in  Congress  ;  the 
good  sense  of  a  large  majority  of  the  representatives  favored  cooler  and 
more  deliberate  measures  than  suited  the  opposition,  who  were,  however, 
constrained  to  submit  to  the  will  of  the  majority.  Two  millions  of  dollars 
were  appropriated  to  defray  expenses  that  might  be  incurred  in  securing 
permanent  right  to  the  country  bordering  the  lower  Mississippi.  Robert 
R.  Livingston  had  accepted  the  French  mission  immediately  following  the 
change  of  administration  ;  his  reception  by  the  court  of  France  had  been 
exceedingly  cool,  and  information  regarding  the  reputed  purchase  of  Louis 
iana  was  studiously  avoided.  His  instructions  were:  to  attempt  to  obtain 
that  portion  of  west  Florida  lying  east  of  the  Mississippi  river.  In  this  he 
met  with  no  encouragement  ;  and  on  proposing  purchase  was  informed  by 
the  minister  that  "  none  but  spendthrifts  satisfied  their  debts  by  selling  their 
lands."  He  soon  learned  that  colonization  was  a  favorite  scheme  of  Napo 
leon  Bonaparte,  who  had  now  no  expensive  wars  upon  his  hands,  and  saw  in 
Louisiana  a  means  to  dispose  of  his  armies  as  well  as  gratify  his  friends. 
April  24th  he  wrote  that  the  French  government  was  "at  that  moment 
fitting  out  an  armament  of  between  five  and  seven  thousand  men,  under  the 

o 

command  of  General  Bernadotte,"  which  would  sail  for  New  Orleans, 
"  unless  the  state  of  affairs  in  San  Domingo  should  change  their  destination." 
He  therefore  urged  the  United  States  to  establish  a  post  at  Natchez,  that 
would,  he  thought,  give  almost  equal  facilities  with  New  Orleans. 

That  the  purpose  of  the  administration  was  foreign  to  this  proposal  is 
determined  in  the  letter  of  the  President  to  Mr.  Monroe.  On  the  I2th  of 
March,  Livingston  wrote  the  secretary  of  state,  Mr.  Madison:  "With 
respect  to  a  negotiation  for  Louisiana,  I  think  nothing  will  be  effected  here. 
I  have  done  everything  I  can,  through  the  Spanish  ambassador,  to  obstruct 
the  bargain  [between  France  and  Spain]  for  the  Floridas,  and  I  have  great 
hope  that  it  will  not  be  soon  concluded." 

For  some  time  differences  between  the  continental  nations  had  been 
brewing  trouble.  Napoleon  had  been  held  up  to  odium  in  the  British  par 
liament,  and  in  various  publications ;  England  was,  if  anything,  anxious  for 
war.  No  better  time  could  have  been  chosen  for  obtaining  from  France  the 
coveted  territory,  on  the  most  satisfactory  terms.  Early  in  April  the  French 
ministry  changed  its  tone,  and  Talleyrand  inquired  whether  the  United 
States  "wished  the  whole  of  Louisiana. "  He  was  informed  by  Mr.  Liv 
ingston  "  that  our  wishes  extended  only  to  New  Orleans  and  the  Floridas." 
Talleyrand  replied,  if  the  French  "gave  New  Orleans  the  rest  would  be  of 
little  value,  and  that  he  would  wish  to  know  what  the  United  States  would 
give  for  the  whole. "  The  American  minister  had,  a  few  days  previously, 


SPECIAL    ENVOY    TO    FRANCE.  511 

furnished  the  French  government  with  the  resolutions  of  Congress  regard 
ing  the  navigation  of  the  Mississippi ;  a  French  council  had  in  the  meantime 
been  held,  at  which  it  had  been  decided  to  sell  the  territory  acquired  from 
Spain,  as  in  case  of  war  with  England,  France  could  not  hope  to  hold  this 
distant  colony,  which  had  no  feeling  of  interest  in  her  success  or  defeat. 

Mr.  Monroe  arrived  off  the  coast  on  the  I2th  of  April.  On  the  I3th 
M.  Marbois,  the  French  treasurer,  informed  Mr.  Livingston  that  Bonaparte 
said  to  him  on  Sunday:  "You  have  charge  of  the  treasury;  let  them  give 
you  one  hundred  millions  of  francs,  and  pay  their  own  claims,  and  take  the 
whole  country."  This  proposition  Livingston  was  not  free  to  accept 
until  he  had  consulted  with  Monroe.  On  the  I5th  the  two  ministers  offered 
the  sum  of  fifty  millions  of  francs,  and  quietly  awaited  events.  Not  long 
had  they  to  remain  in  doubt;  war  was  swiftly  coming,  and  France  had 
pressing  need  of  money.  On  the  3Oth  of  April  a  treat)'  and  two  conven 
tions  were  entered  into  between  the  American  and  French  ministers,  by 
which  the  entire  province  of  Louisiana  was  ceded  by  France  to  the  United 
States,  for  the  sum  of  sixty  millions  of  francs  to  be  paid  directly  to  France, — 
twenty  millions  of  francs  to  be  paid  citizens  of  the  United  States  as  indem 
nity  for  seizures  and  confiscations  of  American  vessels.  It  was  also  pro 
vided  that  the  inhabitants  of  the  province  should  "  be  incorporated  into  the 
union  of  the  United  States,  and  admitted  as  soon  as  possible,  according  to 
the  principles  of  the  federal  Constitution,  to  the  enjoyment  of  all  the  rights., 
advantages,  and  immunities  of  citizens  of  the  United  States;  and,  in  the 
mean  time,  they  should  be  maintained  and  protected  in  the  free  enjoyment 
of  their  liberty,  property,  and  the  religion  which  they  professed."  French 
and  Spanish  ships  were,  for  the  space  of  twelve  years,  to  be  allowed 
entrance  to  any  port  in  the  ceded  territory,  on  the  same  terms  and  in  the 
same  manner  as  American  vessels  coining  from  the  same  or  similar  ports 
belonging  to  either  of  those  nations. 

Thus,  by  the  exercise  of  diplomacy,  was  assured  the  purchase  of  a 
large  territory,  for  the  sum  of  fifteen  millions  of  dollars.  Just  eleven  days 
after  the  conclusion  of  the  treaty  of  cession,  the  British  minister  received 
his  passports  and  left  France,  and  the  bloody  struggle  was  begun,  which 
finally  ended  only  with  the  banishment  of  the  ambitious  Corsican  who  for  so 
main-  years  had  fomented  discord  in  Furopc. 

The  result  of  the  negotiations  being  communicated  to  the  government, 
Mr.  Monroe  crossed  the  channel  and  succeeded  Rufus  King  as  minister  to 
the  court  of  St.  James.  Mr.  King  had  served  in  that  capacity  during  the 
Presidency  of  Adams,  having  been  accredited  minister  about  the  time  Mon 
roe  was  recalled  from  France.  He  had  been  requested  by  President  Jeffer 
son  to  remain  in  the  same  capacity,  but  his  sympathies  being  with  the  fed 
eralist  party,  he  chose  to  resign.  Here  Mr.  Monroe  sought  an  arrangement 
for  the  protection  of  American  seamen  against  impressment,  and  for  the  rec* 


512  JAMES    MONROE. 

ognition  of  the  rights  of  neutrals.  Without  accomplishing  his  object  in  this 
direction,  he  was  suddenly  called  to  Spain,  to  co-operate  with  Mr.  Pinck- 
ney  in  the  settlement  of  a  dispute  which  had  arisen  relative  to  boundaries 
between  that  portion  of  the  Floridas  ceded  to  the  United  States  by  France, 
and  that  portion  retained  by  Spain. 

Here  again  the  controversy  was  left  unsettled,  and  Mr.  Monroe  was 
recalled  to  London  to  maintain  the  rights  of  the  United  States  as  neutrals 
in  the  war  then  waging  with  France.  He  was  soon  joined  by  William  Pink- 
ney,  who  had  been  appointed  minister  to  England;  together  they  negotiated 
a  treaty  in  1806,  which,  although  not  as  favorable  as  they  could  have 
wished,  was  yet  deemed  by  them  advantageous  to  the  United  States.  This 
treaty  was  concluded  December  3ist.  Early  in  January  the  government 
learned  that  a  treaty  containing  no  stipulations  regarding  impressment  of 
American  seamen,  was  under  consideration ;  and  on  the  3d  of  February  for 
warded  to  the  ministers  instructions  to  insist  on  this  one  point;  that  in  case 
a  treaty  had  been  entered  into  which  did  not  provide  against  impressment, 
it  would  not  be  ratified.  Unfortunately  the  treaty  had  already  been  signed, 
the  3  ist  of  December.  In  addition  to  the  omission  of  the  stipulation 
demanded,  came 'a  declaration  of  the  British  ministry  that  their  government 
reserved  the  right  of  departing  from  its  stipulations  relating  to  neutrality, 
if  the  United  States  submitted  to  demands  of  search  made  by  France. 

Without  submitting  the  treaty  to  Congress,  President  Jefferson  returned 
it  to  Mr.  Monroe,  with  the  explanation  that  its  provisions,  if  agreed  to, 
would  bind  the  United  States  in  a  manner  foreign  to  its  interests,  for  the 
term  of  ten  years,  wrhile  it  gave  Great  Britain  the  largest  latitude;  that  if 
he  saw  amendment  of  the  treaty  impossible,  he  had  best  return  and  allow 
Mr.  Pinkney  to  procrastinate  negotiations,  "and  give  us  time,  the  most 
precious  of  all  things  to  us."  He  then  offered  Mr.  Monroe  the  governor 
ship  of  New  Orleans,  at  that  period  "the  second  office  in  the  United  States 
in  importance."  The  effect  of  this  action  of  the  President  was  to  produce 
an  unpleasantness  in  the  mind  of  Monroe,  who  conceived  the  course  fol 
lowed  by  Mr.  Jefferson  as  ill-advised,  in  that  the  treaty  was  not  submitted 
to  Congress.  However,  this  would  have  been  of  no  avail,  as  the  state  of 
feeling  in  the  United  States  at  that  time  was  strongly  determined  against 
any  stipulations  that  did  not  expressly  provide  for  discontinuance  of  the 
outrage  of  impressment.  The  affair  of  the  CJiesapcakc  and  Leopard,  which 
occurred  about  this  time,  detained  Mr.  Monroe  for  a  short  period,  when  he 
returned  to  the  United  States,  in  the  late  autumn  of  1807.  During  Mon 
roe's  absence  in  Europe  occurred  the  defection  of  John  Randolph,  chairman 
of  the  committee  of  ways  and  means,  in  the  House.  Hitherto  he  had 
been  classed  among  the  friends  of  the  administration  ;  now  he  became  an 
outspoken  opponent  of  Jefferson,  Madison,  and  others,  the  leaders  of  the 
party  in  power.  In  opposition  to  the  nomination  of  Mr.  Madison  as  the 


IN     MADISON'S    CABINET.  513 

successor  of  President  Jefferson,  he  organized  a  small  party  of  malcontents, 
who  were  dubbed  the  "Quids."  Among  their  earliest  measures  was  the 
advocacy  of  James  Monroe  as  candidate  for  President. 

Coupled  with  Monroe's  dissatisfaction  in  regard  to  Jefferson's  course  in 
the  matter  of  the  treat}*,  was  the  belief  that  he  was  secret!}'  endeavoring  to 
promote  Madison's  interests,  and  secure  the  nomination  of  the  secretary  of 
state  for  President,  instead  of  giving  him  an  equal  chance  by  remaining 
neutral.  This  belief  was  shared  by  a  large  majority  of  the  friends  of  Mon 
roe.  On  the  I9th  of  January,  iSoS,  a  caucus  of  republican  members  of 
Congress  was  called,  to  meet  on  the  230!,  and  put  in  nomination  candidates 
for  the  offices  of  President  and  Vice  President.  The  caucus  was  held,  and 
consisted  of  eighty-nine  members,  some  thirty  or  fort}'  short  of  the  whole 
number  ;  the  absentees  being  mostly  those  who  saw  no  prospect  for  the 
nomination  of  the  candidate  of  their  choice.  In  the  caucus  for  President 
Madison  received  eight} -three  votes,  Clinton  three,  and  Monroe  three ;  for 
Vice  President,  Clinton  received  seventy-nine  votes,  John  Langdon  five,  Gen 
eral  Dearborn  three,  and  John  Ouincy  Adams  one.  The  result  was  embar 
rassing  to  the  administration.  The  friends  of  Monroe  refused  to  acquiesce 
in  the  decision  of  the  caucus,  anil  a  protest,  signed  by  seventeen  of  the 
"Quids,"  was  soon  after  published.  Several  communications  passed 
between  Jefferson  and  Monroe, — the  latter  writing  with  considerable  warmth 
of  feeling, — before  the  breach  was  healed.  In  these  letters  Mr.  Jefferson 
disavowed  any  influence  on  the  side  of  either,  though  undoubtedly  his  pref 
erences  were  for  Madison,  who  possessed  the  greater  intellect,  and  was 
really  the  better  entitled  to  the  honor.  Mr.  Madison  in  later  years  testi 
fied  to  the  character  of  Monroe,  and  the  unimpeded  flow  of  their  friend 
ship,  in  the  following  words  :  "His  understanding  was  very  much  under 
rated — his  judgment  particularly  good.  Few  men  have  ever  made  more  of 
what  may  be  called  sacrifices  in  the  services  of  the  public.  When  he  con 
sidered  the  interests  or  the  dignity  of  the  country  involved,  his  own  interest 
wa^  never  regarded.  Besides  this  cause,  his  extreme  generosity — not  only 
to  the  numerous  members  of  his  family  dependent  upon  him — but  to  friends 
not  united  by  blood,  has  greatly  tended  to  his  impoverishment.  Perhaps 
there  never  was  another  instance  of  two  men  brought  so  often,  and  so 
directly,  at  points,  who  retained  their  cordiality  towards  each  other  unim 
paired  through  the  whole.  \Vc  used  to  meet  in  days  of  considerable  excite 
ment,  and  address  the  people  on  our  respective  sides;  but  there  never  was 
an  atom  of  ill  will  between  us." 

Three  years  elapsed  following  Mr.  Monroe's  return  from  the  English 
mission,  before  he  again  entered  political  life.  History  gives  no  intimation 
of  his  life  during  this  period.  As  he  was  educated  to  the  law  it  is  probable 
he  practiced  at  the  bar.  In  iSi  I  he  was  again  elected  governor  of  Virginia, 
which  office  he  held  until  November  of  that  year,  when  he  succeeded  Rob- 


514  JAMES    MONROE. 

ert  Smith  in  the  cabinet  of  Mr.  Madison,  as  secretary  of  state.  In  this 
office  he  remained  during  President  Madison's  administration  ;  after  the 
British  capture  of  Washington,  in  August,  1814,  adding  to  his  duties  those 
of  secretary  of  war,  which  department  was  resigned  by  General  Armstrong. 
He  arranged  for  the  defense  of  New  Orleans,  and  conducted  affairs  con 
nected  with  the  war  office  until  peace  was  signed.  In  raising  funds  for  the 
defense  of  New  Orleans,  he  was  compelled  to  pledge  his  private  credit,  the 
credit  of  the  government  at  that  time  being  at  a  low  ebb.  After  the  concha 
sion  of  peace  he  resumed  his  duties  in  the  department  of  state ;  where  he 
devised  those  measures  which  aimed  at  the  re-establishment  of  the  credit  of 
the  government,  and  more  complete  preparation  for  exigencies  similar  to 
that  through  which  it  had  just  passed.  In  the  course  adopted  he  was  sus 
tained  by  public  opinion  ;  and  he  followed  the  same  line  of  policy  during 
the  two  terms  he  occupied  the  presidential  chair. 


ELECTED    PRESIDENT. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ELECTED   PRESIDENT-POPULARITY  OF  HIS  ADMINISTRATION-RE-ELECTED 

PRESIDENT. 

EARLY  in  the  spring  of  1816  the  republican  members  of  Congress 
assembled  in  caucus,  to  place  in  nomination  a  candidate  for  the  presi 
dential  succession.  The  part}'  in  Xe\v  York  pressed  the  claims  of  Governor 
Daniel  D.  Tompkins  to  the  first  place  on  the  ticket.  At  the  time  of  the 
resignation  of  General  Armstrong  as  secretary  of  war,  Mr.  Madison  pro 
posed  that  Monroe  should  vacate  the  office  of  state,  and  that  Governor 
Tompkins  should  succeed  him.  To  this  the  latter  demurred,  assicrnincr  as  a 

I  o  o 

reason,  that  he  could  render  more  service  to  the  government  as  governor  of 
New  York  than  as  a  member  of  the  cabinet.  This  offer  of  the  President 
was  construed  by  the  friends  of  Governor  Tompkins  as  an  intimation  that  he 
would  receive  the  support  of  the  administration  in  the  next  presidential  con 
test.  That  he  was  not  so  supported  was  a  disappointment  to  his  friends, 
who  thereupon  united  with  others  of  the  part}'  who  were  inimical  to  Mon 
roe,  in  efforts  to  secure  the  nomination  of  William  H.  Crawford,  of  Georgia. 
The  caucus  was  held  March  i6th,  and  developed  a  warm  contest;  the 
result  was  sixty-five  votes  for  James  Monroe,  and  fifty-four  for  William 
II.  Crawford.  For  Vice  President  Daniel  D.  Tompkins  received  eighty-five 
votes  as  against  thirty  cast  for  Simon  Snyder,  governor  of  Pennsylvania, 
The  federalist  party  selected  as  candidate  Rufus  King,  who  had  won  consid 
erable  renown  as  minister  to  Kngland.  The  election,  held  in  the  late  autumn 
of  1816,  gave  to  Monroe  and  Tompkins  one  hundred  and  eighty-three  elec 
toral  votes,  as  against  thirty-four  given  Rufus  King  for  President.  The 
electoral  vote  for  Yice  President  on  the  federal  ticket  was  divided  among 
several  candidates. 

After  the  election  of  Mr.  Monroe  was  an  assured  fact,  although  the 
electoral  college  had  not  yet  met  and  announced  the  result,  he  received  a  let 
ter  from  General  Andrew  Jackson,  in  which  the  latter  proffered  advice  rela- 


516  JAMES    MONROE., 

live  to  the  selection  of  a  cabinet.  The  following  is  an  extract  from  the  letter: 
"Your  happiness  and  the  nation's  welfare  materially  depend  upon  the  selec 
tions  which  are  to  be  made  to  fill  the  heads  of  departments.  Everything 
depends  on  the  selection  of  your  ministry.  In  every  selection,  party  and 
party  feelings  should  be  avoided.  Now  is  the  time  to  exterminate  that  mon 
ster  called  party  spirit.  By  selecting  characters  most  conspicuous  for  their 
probity,  virtue,  capacity,  and  firmness,  without  regard  to  party,  you  will  go 
far  to,  if  not  entirely,  eradicate  those  feelings  which,  on  former  occasions, 
threw  so  many  obstacles  in  the  way  of  government ;  and  perhaps  have  the 
pleasure  and  honor  of  uniting  a  people  heretofore  politically  divided.  The 
chief  magistrate  of  a  great  and  powerful  nation  should  never  indulge  in 
part)7  feelings.  His  conduct  should  be  liberal  and  disinterested,  always 
bearing  in  mind  that  he  acts  for  the  whole  and  not  a  part  of  the  community." 
How  closely  this  advice  was  followed  by  Jackson  himself,  when  he  came  to 
the  presidential  chair,  future  pages  will  illustrate. 

In  his  reply  Mr.  Monroe  discussed,  at  some  length,  the  subject  of  par 
ties  and  appointments,  and  in  the  course  of  his  remarks  said:  "The  elec 
tion  of  a  successor  to  Mr.  Madison  has  taken  place,  and  a  new  administra 
tion  is  to  commence  its  service.  The  election  has  been  made  by  the  repub 
lican  party,  and  of  a  person  known  to  be  devoted  to  that  cause.  How  shall 
he  act?  How  organize  the  administration?  How  fill  the  vacancies  existing 
at  the  time?  The  distinction  between  republicans  and  federalists,  even  in 
the  southern,  and  middle,  and  western  states,  has  not  been  fully  clone  away. 
To  give  effect  to  free  government,  and  secure  it  from  future  danger,  ought 
not  its  decided  friends,  who  stood  firm  in  the  day  of  trial,  to  be  principally 
relied  on?  Would  not  the  association  of  any  of  their  opponents  in  the 
administration,  itself  wound  their  feelings,  or  at  least  of  very  many  of  them, 
to  the  injury  of  the  republican  cause?  Might  it  not  be  considered,  by  the 
other  party,  as  an  offer  of  compromise  with  them,  which  would  lessen  the 
ignominy  due  to  the  counsel  which  produced  the  Hartford  convention,  and 
thereby  have  a  tendency  to  revive  that  party  on  its  former  principles  ?  My 
impression  is,  that  the  administration  should  rest  strongly  on  the  republican 
party,  indulging  toward  the  other  a  spirit  of  moderation,  and  evincing  a 
desire  to  discriminate  between  its  members,  and  to  bring  the  whole  into  the 
republican  fold,  as  quietly  as  possible.  Many  men,  very  distinguished  for 
their  talents,  are  of  opinion  that  the  existence  of  the  federal  party  is  neces 
sary  to  keep  union  and  order  in  the  republican  ranks ;  that  is,  that  free  gov 
ernment  cannot  exist  without  parties.  This  is  not  my  opinion.  The  first 
object  is  to  save  the  cause,  which  can  be  done  by  those  who  are  devoted  to 
it  only,  and,  of  course,  by  keeping  them  together ;  or,  in  other  words,  by 
not  disgusting  them  by  too  hasty  an  act  of  liberality  to  the  other  party, 
thereby  breaking  that  generous  spirit  of  the  republican  party,  and  keeping 
alive  that  of  the  federal  party.  The  second  is,  to  prevent  the  reorganization 


ELECTED    PRESIDENT.  517 

and  revival  of  the  federal  party,  which,  if  my  hypothesis  is  true,  that  the 
existence  of  party  is  not  necessary  to  a  free  government,  and  the  other 
opinion  which  I  have  advanced  is  well  founded,  that  the  great  body  of  the 
federal  party  are  republican,  will  not  be  found  impracticable.  To  accom 
plish  both  objects,  and  thereby  exterminate  all  party  divisions  in  our  coun 
try,  and  give  new  strength  and  stability  to  our  government,  is  a  git  at 
undertaking,  not  easily  executed.  I  am,  nevertheless,  decidedly  of  opinion 
that  it  may  be  done  ;  and  should  the  experiment  fail,  I  shall  conclude  that 
its  failure  was  imputable  more  to  the  want  of  a  correct  knowledge  of  all 
circumstances  claiming  attention,  and  of  sound  judgment  in  the  measures 
adopted,  than  to  any  other  cause.  I  agree,  I  think,  perfectly  with  you,  in 
the  grand  object,  that  moderation  should  be  shown  the  federal  part}',  and 
even  a  generous  policy  adopted  toward  it;  the  only  difference  between  us 
seems  to  be,  how  far  shall  that  spirit  be  indulged  in  at  the  outset;  and  it  is 
to  make  you  thoroughly  acquainted  with  my  views  on  this  highly  important 
subject,  that  I  have  written  you  so  freely  upon  it."  In  this  communication 
Monroe  enunciated  in  more  moderate  form  the  principle  afterward  given  to 
the  country  by  William  L.  Mnrcy,  which  has  since  been  one  of  the  cardinal 
doctrines  of  the  democratic  party:  "To  the  victors  belong  the  spoils." 

The  installation  of  James  Monroe  and  Daniel  D.  Tompkins  as  Presi 
dent  and  Vice  President,  took  pi, ice  in  Washington,  March  4,  1817.  An 
imposing  procession  was  formed,  its  head  at  the  house  of  the  President-elect, 
who,  in  company  with  the  Vice  President-elect,  attended  by  a  large  number 
of  gentlemen  on  horseback,  proceeded  to  Congress  hall,  where  the  cere 
monies  of  inauguration  were  conducted.  The  Vice  President  being  first 
inducted  into  his  office,  the  Senate  adjourned,  and  the  President-elect,  the 
Vice  President,  judges  of  the  supreme  court,  senators,  and  representatives, 
advanced  to  «:  temporary  p  >rtic»>,  \vherethe  President  delivered  his  inaugural 
address,  after  which  the  oath  of  office  was  administered  by  Chief-justice 
Marshall. 

As  was  intimated  in  his  communication  to  General  Jackson,  the  Presi 
dent  was  guided  by  party  bias  in  the  choice  of  his  advisers.  For  secretary 
of  state  he  selected  John  Ouincy  Adams,  of  Massachusetts;  for  secretary 
«>f  the  treasury,  William  H.  Crawford,  of  Georgia ;  for  secretary  of  war, 
John  C.  Calhoun,  of  South  Carolina  ;  for  attorney  general,  William  Wirt, 
t»f  Virginia.  The  two  last  named  were  appointed  in  December,  1817,  the 
former  in  place  of  Governor  Isaac  Shelby,  ot  Kentucky,  who  declined  the 
appointment.  Benjamin  W.  Crowninshield,  who  had  been  appointed  secre 
tary  of  the  navy  by  Mr.  Madison,  was  continued  in  office  until  November 
9,  1818,  when  he  was  succeeded  by  Smith  Thompson,  of  New  York. 
Return  J.  Meigs,  of  Ohio,  was  continued  as  postmaster-general,  which  was 
not  at  that  time  a  cabinet  office.  He  retained  that  office  from  March  17,  1814, 
until  June  26,  1823,  when  he  was  succeeded  by  John  M'Lean,  also  from 


518  JAMES    MONROE. 

Ohio.      During  his  two  terms  as  President  these  were  all  the  changes  made 
by  Mr.  Monroe  in  the  cabinet,  or  heads  of  department. 

From  the  beginning  of  his  administration  President  Monroe  carried 
forward  the  measures  that  had  been  instituted  in  the  latter  part  of  Madison's 
administration,  looking  to  the  strengthening  of  the  government  at  home. 
First  among  these  was  the  preparation  for  defense  against  foreign  invasion. 
The  recent  war  with  Great  Britain  had  developed  the  weakness  of  coast 
defenses,  and  to  these  attention  was  first  directed.  Himself  already  pos 
sessed  of  considerable  military  knowledge  derived  in  two  wars,  the  President 
supplemented  this  by  practical  observation.  Immediately  after  the  cere 
monies  of  inauguration  were  concluded,  he  turned  his  attention  in  this 
direction;  and  an  interval  of  leisure  presenting  itself,  on  the  3ist  of  May, 
1817,  he  entered  upon  the  duty  of  personally  inspecting  the  coast  fortifica 
tions  to  the  northeast,  and  the  defenses  in  the  north  and  northwest. 
Departing  from  the  capital  he  proceeded  to  Baltimore,  thence  through  the 
state  of  Delaware  to  Philadelphia  and  New  York.  To  the  northeast  he 
journeyed,  visiting  the  principal  cities  and  towns  in  Connecticut,  Rhode 
Island,  and  Massachusetts,  to  Boston.  Thence  to  Concord  and  the  larger 
towns  in  New  Hampshire,  and  through  Maine  to  Portland.  Here  a 
counter  course  was  pursued,  westward  through  Vermont  to  Pittsburgh, 
thence  through  the  forest  to  the  St.  Lawrence,  where  the  party  took  boat 
and  proceeded  to  Sackett's  Harbor  and  Fort  Niagara  ;  along  the  strait  to 
Buffalo,  through  Lake  Erie  to  Detroit ;  thence  south  through  the  terri 
tory  of  Michigan  ;  through  Ohio,  Pennsylvania,  and  Maryland  to  the  capi 
tal — in  all  an  absence  of  three  months.  In  this  time  he  inspected  garrisons, 
examined  fortifications,  reviewed  troops,  and  obtained  an  accurate  knowl 
edge  of  the  condition  of  the  government  works  on  the  sea  and  lake  coast ; 
all  of  which  was  of  great  advantage  in  the  eight  years  of  his  administration. 
Added  to  this,  he  met  the  people  of  diverse  points  in  the  Union,  and 
acquired  a  variety  of  information  regarding  the  capabilities  of  the  country, 
the  character  and  surroundings  of  the  people.  Since  Washington  no  Presi 
dent  had  made  a  tour  that  brought  him  before  the  people,  and  his  visits 
were  confined  to  the  eastern  and  middle  states.  Everywhere  on  his  journey 
was  the  President  received  with  enthusiasm  ;  as  he  approached  towns  and 
cities  delegations  of  citizens  met  him,  and  as  he  proceeded  on  his  way, 
accompanied  him  toward  the  next  stopping  place.  Addresses  were  made 
and  responded  to.  Before  the  New  York  Society  of  the  Cincinnati, — com 
posed  of  officers  who  had  served  in  the  war  of  the  Revolution, — he  said: 
"The  opportunity  which  my  visit  to  this  city  has  presented  of  meeting 
the  New  York  Society  of  the  Cincinnati,  with  many  of  whom  I  was  well 
acquainted  in  our  revolution,  affords  me  heartfelt  satisfaction.  It  is  impos 
sible  to  meet  any  of  those  patriotic  citizens,  whose  valuable  services  were  so 


POPULARITY    OF    HIS    ADMINISTRATION.  519 

intimately  connected  with   that  great  event  without  recollections  which  it  is 
equally  just  and  honorable  to  cherish." 

The  prospects  of  a  merging'  of  parties  being  alluded  to  in  an  address  pre 
sented  by  the  citizens  of  Kennebunk,  Maine,  the  President  replied  ;  "You 
are  pleased  to  express  a  confident  hope  that  a  spirit  of  mutual  conciliation 
may  be  one  of  the  blessing  which  may  result  from  my  administration. 
This,  indeed,  would  be  an  eminent  blessing,  and  I  pray  it  may  be  realized. 
Nothing  but  union  is  wanting  to  make  us  a  great  people.  The  present 
time  affords  the  happiest  presage  that  this  union  is  fast  consummating.  It 
cannot  be  otherwise  ;  I  daily  see  greater  proofs  of  it.  The  further  I  advance 
in  my  progress  in  the  country,  the  more  1  perceive  that  we  are  all  .Ameri 
cans — that  we  compose  but  one  family — that  our  republican  institutions 
will  be  supported  and  perpetuated  by  the  united  zeal  and  patriotism  of  all 
Nothing  could  give  me  greater  satisfaction  than  to  behold  a  perfect  union 
among  ourselves — a  union  which  is  necessary  to  restore  to  social  intercourse 
its  former  charms,  and  to  render  our  happiness,  as  a  nation,  unmixed  and 
complete.  To  promote  this  desirable  result  requires  no  compromise  of 
principles,  and  I  promise  to  give  it  my  continued  attention,  and  my  best 
endeavors. " 

The  first  session  of  the  fifteenth  Congress  opened  on  the  1st  of  Decem 
ber,  1817,  and  continued  until  the  3Qth  of  April,  iSi8.  During  that  time 
important  legislation  was  effected  ;  the  duties  on  licenses  to  distillers,  on 
refined  sugar,  licenses  to  retailers,  sales  at  auction,  on  pleasure  carriages^ 
and  stamps,  were  repealed,  as  recommended  by  the  President  in  his  message. 
The  compensation  for  members  of  both  houses  of  Congress  was  fixed  at 
eight  dollars  per  day,  and  eight  dollars  for  every  twenty  miles  travel  ;  the 
act  of  March,  1 8 16,  establishing  the  salary  of  members  at  fifteen  hundred 
dollars  per  year,  was  repealed.  A  great  measure  of  relief  was  afforded  the 
officers  and  soldiers  of  the  revolutionary  army,  by  the  passage  of  a  pension 
act ;  two  years  subsequently  this  act  was  amended  to  apply  only  to  those 
in  destitute  circumstances.  Hitherto  this  measure, — long  in  contemplation, 
— had  been  delayed  by  the  financial  condition  of  the  country,  but  public 
opinion  was  aroused  and  sustained  the  law  for  the  relief  of  those  who  had 
imperilled  their  lives  for  the  establishment  of  independence.  An  act  in 
modification  of  the  act  of  1807.  relative  to  the  importation  of  slaves,  was 
passed  ;  also  a  law  prohibiting  filibustering  expeditions  against  the  subjects 
of  any  government  at  peace  with  the  United  States.  This  law  was  passed 
to  prevent  an  invasion  of  the  territory  of  Mexico,  which  was  then  appre 
hended.  The  state  of  Mississippi  was  admitted  into  the  Union  December 
10,  1817  ;  and  an  act  passed  in  the  following  April,  authorizing  the  people 
of  the  territory  of  Illinois  to  form  a  constitution  and  organize  a  state  gov 
ernment,  preparatory  to  being  admitted  into  the  Union.  The  ports  of  the 
United  States  were  closed  to  vessels  from  any  colony  of  Great  Britain,  the 


52O  JAMES    MONROE. 

ports  of  which  were  closed  to  vessels  of  the  United  States.  An  act  was 
passed  establishing  the  flag  of  the  United  States  ;  and  defining  it  as  com 
posed  of  thirteen  stripes,  of  alternate  red  and  white,  and  that  the  Union  be 
represented  by  one  star  for  each  state,  the  stars  to  be  white  in  a  blue  field. 
Protection  was  granted  on  certain  manufactures  :  copper,  cut-glass,  Russia 
sheetings,  iron,  nails,  and  other  articles.  The  duties  on  manufactured  cot 
ton  and  Avoolen  goods  were  continued  for  a  period  of  seven  years.  The 
tariff  of  1816,  on  the  two  articles  of  cotton  and  woolen  goods,  had  been 
fixed  at  twenty-five  per  cent,  and  the  minimum  value  of  a  square  yard  of 
cotton  established  at  twenty-five  cents  ;  still,  vast  quantities  of  manufactured 
goods  were  brought  to  this  country,  to  the  demoralization  of  manufactur 
ing  industries  and  the  bankruptcy  of  those  who  had  engaged  in  them.  The 
subject  of  internal  improvements  was  discussed  in  Congress  at  this  session, 
and  developed  opposition  to  governmental  supervision  of  such  works. 

Serious  difficulties  arose  with  Spain  in  the  early  part  of  1818,  caused 
by  the  invasion  of  the  Floridas  by  General  Jackson,  in  pursuit  of  Indians, 
who  had  been  making  warlike  incursions  into  the  southern  portion  of 
the  United  States.  In  the  course  of  his  expedition  General  Jackson  cap 
tured  and  took  possession  of  several  Spanish  forts,  alleging  as  a  reason, 
that  they  had  given  support  and  aid  to  the  fleeing  Indians,  and  in  no  other 
manner  could  a  period  be  put  to  their  depredations.  At  this  time,  treaty 
negotiations  were  in  progress  with  Spain,  which  \vere  interrupted  by  the 
invasion  of  the  territory  belonging  to  that  government.*  By  direction  of  the 
President  the  captured  posts  were  restored  to  the  Spanish  authorities.  On 
the  22cl  of  February,  1819,  a  treaty  was  entered  into  with  Spain,  by  which 
that  power  ceded  to  the  United  States  East  and  West  Florida,  with  all  the 
islands  adjacent,  for  the  sum  of  five  millions  of  dollars.  This  treaty  covered 
the  Spanish  possessions  in  the  southeast,  but  left  a  large  territory  subject 
to  Spain  in  the  west  and  southwest.  Not  until  October,  1820,  was  this 
treaty  ratified  by  the  king  of  Spain.  In  the  meantime  Mexico  had  declared 
and  accomplished  her  independence  from  the  dominion  of  Spain,  and  the 
ratification  of  the  treaty,  which  called  for  a  definitive  settlement  of  the 
question  of  western  boundary,  as  well  as  the  cession  of  the  Floridas,  did 
not  accomplish  all  that  was  expected  of  it.  Eight  years  later  the  boundary 
line  was  determined  with  Mexico.  In  the  discussion  of  the  provisions  to 
be  inserted  in  the  treaty  with  Spain,  that  government  was  prepared  to  release 
a  considerable  body  of  territory  to  the  westward  of  the  Mississippi  river; 
but  strenuous  objection  being  made  by  statesmen  in  the  eastern  states,  to 
any  enlargement  of  the  Union  in  the  southwest,  it  was  finally  decided  to 
limit  the  extension  in  that  direction.  While  this  had  an  effect  in  preventing 
the  extension  of  slavery  in  that  direction  for  a  term  of  years,  eventually 

*  See  Life  of  Andrew  Jackson. 


FIRST    ADMINISTRATION.  521 

it  led   to  the  war  with   Mexico,  which  had  as  its  direct  object  the  increase 
of  slave  territory. 

In  1818  a  treaty  convention  was  concluded  by  the  United  States  and 
Great  Britain,  relative  to  the  Newfoundland  and  other  fisheries,  the  north 
western  boundary  line, — between  the  Lake  of  the  Woods  and  the  Rocky 
mountains, — and  to  the  renewal  and  extension  of  the  treaty  of  1815 
for  the  term  of  ten  years ;  also  for  the  restoration  of  slaves  taken  in  the 
war  of  1812.  Although  the  subject  of  impressment  of  seamen  was  urged 
upon  the  British  government,  no  action  was  taken  on  that  question.  Dur 
ing  the  summer  of  1819  the  President  made  a  tour  through  the  southern 
states,  having  for  its  object  inspection  of  military  posts  and  fortifications  in 
that  portion  of  the  Union.  In  the  course  of  his  journey  he  visited  Charles 
ton,  Savannah,  and  Augusta,  thence  through  the  territory  occupied  by  the 
Cherokee  nation,  to  Nashville;  thence  to  Louisville  and  Lexington;  reach 
ing  Washington  on  his  return  in  August. 

The  first  term  of  the  Monroe  administration  was  signalized  by  great 
depression  in  the  money  market ;  business  was  stagnated,  and  manufactures 
were  well  nigh  suspended.  Says  Thomas  II.  Benton  in  his  Thirty  Years  in 
the  United  States  Senate:  "The  bank  of  the  United  States  was  chartered 
in  1816,  and  before  1820  had  performed  one  of  its  cycles  of  delusion  and 
bubble  prosperity,  followed  by  actual  and  widespread  calamity.  The  whole 
paper  system,  of  which  it  was  the  head  and  the  citadel,  after  a  vast  expan 
sion,  had  suddenly  collapsed,  spreading  desolation  over  the  land,  and  carry 
ing  ruin  to  debtors.  The  years  1819  and  1820  were  a  period  of  gloom  and 
agony.  No  money,  either  gold  or  silver;  no  measure  or  standard  of  value, 
left  remaining.  The  local  banks, — all  but  those  of  New  England, — after  a 
brief  resumption  of  specie  payments,  again  sank  into  a  state  of  suspension. 
The  bank  of  the  United  States,  created  as  a  remedy  for  all  these  evils,  now 
at  the  head  of  the  evil,  prostrate  and  helpless,  with  no  power  left  but  that 
of  suing  its  debtors,  and  selling  their  property,  and  purchasing  for  itself 
at  its  own  nominal  price.  No  price  for  property  or  produce.  No  sales  but 
those  of  the  sheriff  and  the  marshal.  No  purchasers  at  execution  sales  but 
the  creditor,  or  some  hoarder  of  money.  No  employment  for  industry — 
no  demand  for  labor — no  sale  for  the  product  of  the  farm — no  sound  of  the 
hammer,  but  that  of  the  auctioneer,  knocking  down  property.  Stop  laws 
—property  laws — replevin  laws — stay  laws — loan  office  laws — the  interven 
tion  of  the  legislature  between  the  creditor  and  the  debtor;  this  was  the 
business  of  legislation  in  three-fourths  of  the  states  of  the  Union — of  all 
south  and  west  of  New  England.  No  medium  of  exchange  but  depreciated 
paper;  no  change  even,  but  little  bits  of  foul  paper,  marked  so  many  cents, 
and  signed  by  some  tradesman,  barber,  or  inn-keeper  ;  exchanges  deranged 
to  the  extent  of  fifty  or  one  hundred  per  cent.  Distress,  the  universal  cry 


$22  JAMES    MONROE. 

of  the  people ;  relief,  the  universal  demand  thundered  at  the  doors  of  all 
legislation,  state  and  federal." 

The  attention  of  the  government  was  continually  directed  to  the  finan 
cial  concerns  of  the  country,  stability  in  the  currency  being  deemed  the 
chief  end  to  be  secured.  With  this  in  view,  sales  of  government  lands 
were  made,  and  the  proceeds  applied  to  extinguishment  of  the  public  debt. 
Measures  were  taken  looking  to  further  protection  of  manufactures.  The 
demands  on  the  treasury  were  greatly  increased  by  the  passage  of  the  pen 
sion  law,  more  than  one  million  of  dollars  being  paid  out  of  the  federal 
treasury  on  this  one  account.  The  increase  of  the  tariff  on  foreign  produc 
tions,  while  it  encouraged  home  industry,  did  not  increase  the  revenue 
derived  from  the  tax  on  imports;  and  the  financial  matters  were  in  an  em 
barrassed  condition. 

Mr.  Clay  was  elected  speaker  of  the  sixteenth  Congress,  which  met 
December  6,  1819,  in  which  honorable  position  he  had  served  through  sev 
eral  preceding  sessions.  On  the  I4th,  Alabama  was  admitted  into  the 
Union  ;  and  on  the  I5th  of  March  following,  Maine  also  became  a  state.  Pre 
vious  to  this  time  Maine  had,  since  the  year  1652,  been  a  part  of  Massa 
chusetts.  An  act  was  also  passed,  on  the  6th  of  March,  1820,  authorizing 
the  citizens  of  Missouri  to  form  a  constitution  and  organize  a  state  govern 
ment,  preparatory  to  admission  into  the  Union.  An  excited  debate  fol 
lowed  the  proposition  to  insist,  as  a  condition  precedent,  that  the  future 
removal  or  conveyance  of  slaves  into  that  territory  be  prohibited.  The  bill 
was  finally  passed  without  restriction.  The  second  session  of  the  sixteenth 
Congress  began  November  13,  1820.  At  the  opening  of  the  session  Mr. 
Clay  tendered  his  resignation,  private  business  of  an  urgent  nature  prevent 
ing  his  further  serving  as  speaker  of  the  House.  He  was  succeeded  by 
John  \V.  Taylor,  of  New  York.  The  most  important  question  before 
Congress  was  the  admission  of  Missouri  as  a  state  in  accordance  with  the 
action  of  the  previous  session.  At  that  session  Mr.  Clay  had  introduced 
a  resolution  of  compromise,  by  which  slavery  was  to  be  forever  prohibited 
in  that  part  of  the  territory  west  of  the  Missouri  river  and  lying  north 
of  thirty-six  degrees  and  thirty  minutes  north  latitude. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  current  session  the  constitution  framed  by  the 
citizens  of  Missouri,  was  presented  to  Congress,  and  was  referred  to  a  com 
mittee,  which  reported  it  to  be  republican  in  form;  and  advised  that  Mis 
souri  be  admitted  into  the  sisterhood  of  states.  Objection  was  made  to  such 
disposal  of  the  question,  on  the  ground  that  the  constitution  of  the  state 
permitted  slavery  ;  and  further,  that  it  contained  a  provision  which  would 
prove  inimical  to  free  persons  of  color,  recognized  as  citizens  in  some  of  the 
states.  Debate  was  continued  for  a  week,  with  great  heat  on  both  sides. 
A  majority  of  fourteen  in  the  House  decided  that  Missouri  could  not  be 
received  into  the  Union  under  the  constitution  presented.  This  vote  was 


RE-ELECTED  PRESIDENT.  $23 

carried  by  the  northern,  eastern,  and  middle  states,  all  the  southern  states 
voting  for  admission.  In  this  condition  the  question  rested  until  the  I4th 
of  February,  when  came  the  time  for  opening  and  counting  the  votes  of 
the  electoral  college,  and  declaring  the  election  of  a  President  and  Vice 
President.  Missouri  had  chosen  presidential  electors;  not  being  definitely 
admitted  a  state,  a  question  arose  as  to  the  propriety  of  counting  her  elec 
toral  vote.  It  was  finally  decided  that  the  votes  should  be  counted,  and 
that  the  president  of  the  Senate  should  declare  that,  if  the  votes  of  [Missouri 
were  counted,  A.  B.  would  have  so  many,  and  if  the  votes  of  Missouri  were 
not  counted,  A.  B.  would  have  so  many :  in  cither  case  A.  B.  is  elected. 
The  same  course  was  followed  in  counting  the  votes  for  Vice  President. 
Mr,  Clay  had  again  resumed  his  seat  in  the  House,  and  warmly  supported 
this  resolution.  An  effort  was  made  by  Mr.  Randolph  to  declare  that  Mis 
souri  was  a  state  of  the  Union,  but  this  was  not  acceded  to.  On  the  26th 
of  February  a  resolution  was  offered  by  Mr.  Clay,  from  a  joint  committee 
of  the  two  houses,  for  the  admission  of  [Missouri  into  the  Union,  on  the 
condition  that  the  legislature  of  the  state  should  assent  to  the  proposition 
that  nothing  in  the  constitution  of  the  state  should  ever  be  construed  to  the 
disadvantage  of  any  citizen  of  any  other  state  of  the  United  States.  This 
\vas  agreed  to  in  both  Mouse  and  Senate,  and  the  President  approving,  on 
August  10,  1821,  Missouri  was  admitted  into  the  Union.  The  feeling 
of  opposition  to  the  extension  of  slaveiy,  and  the  aggressions  of  the  slave 
power,  grew  from  this  time  forth,  and  never  abated  until  the  proclamation 
of  emancipation,  which  went  into  effect  in  January,  1863,  forever  settled 
the  question  of  slavery  in  the  United  States. 


TAMES  MONROE. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    SECOND  ADMINISTRATION— ESTIMATE    OF    HIS   ABILITIES— HIS   DEATH     IN    NEW 

YORK. 

OTHER  acts  of  the  sixteenth  Congress  were  the  placing  of  the  army  on 
a  peace  footing,  reducing  the  force  to  seven  regiments  of  infantry 
and  four  regiments  of  artillery,  with  additional  officers  for  the  engineering 
and  ordnance  departments.  The  appropriation  for  the  navy,  which  had 
amounted,  the  previous  year,  to  one  million  dollars,  was  reduced  one-half. 
The  President  was  authorized  to  take  proper  steps  to  assume  control  of  the 
Floridas,  which  had  been  ceded  to  the  United  States  by  treaty,  and  the 
treaty  ratified  by  the  Spanish  king,  and  by  the  United  States  government. 
Several  propositions  were  presented,  that  were  not  acceded  to  ;  among  oth 
ers,  that  the  sedition  law  of  1798  be  repealed,  and  restitution  made  of  fines 
collected  through  its  provisions. 

In  the  early  spring  of  1820,  was  held  the  convention  for  placing  in 
nomination  candidates  for  President  and  Vice  President  for  the  four  years 
beginning  March  4,  1821.  James  Monroe  and  Daniel  D.  Tompkins  again 
received  the  nomination.  The  result  of  the  election  held  in  the  following 
November,  was  flattering  to  the  administration,  evincing  a  degree  of  approval 
that  had  been  accorded  no  incumbent  of  the  office  since  the  time  of  Wash 
ington.  Mr.  Monroe  received  two  hundred  and  thirty-one  electoral  votes, 
but  one  vote  being  cast  in  opposition.  Mr.  Tompkins  fell  fourteen  votes 
short  of  unanimous  re-election.  On  Monday,  the  5th  of  March,  Mr.  Mon 
roe  was  a  second  time  inducted  into  office,  in  the  presence  of  a  large  number 
of  his  fellow-citizens. 

The  first  session  of  the  seventeenth  Congress  began  December  3,  1821, 
and  closed  its  labors  May  8,  1822.  Mr.  Clay  not  being  a  member  of  this 
Congress,  Philip  P.  Barbour,  of  Virginia,  was  chosen  speaker  of  the  House. 
A  territorial  government  was  established  for  Florida,  and  laws  passed 
annulling  certain  ordinances  then  in  force  in  the  territory.  A  new  appor- 


HIS    SECOND    ADMINISTRATION.  525 

tionment  law  was  passed,  establishing  the  ratio  of  representation  at  one 
representative  for  each  forty  thousand  inhabitants.  The  increase  of  the 
protective  tariff  received  strong  support,  but  no  legislation  was  had  granting 
further  relief  to  manufacturers.  The  independence  of  Mexico  was  recog 
nized,  as  was  that  of  five  provinces  in  South  America. 

Karly  in  1823  President  Monroe  consulted  Mr.  Jefferson  in  relation 
to  the  course  best  to  be  followed  by  the  government  in  the  present 
r.ttitude  of  the  allied  powers  of  Europe  regarding  Spain  and  her  provinces. 
In  reply  Mr.  Jefferson  wrote,  under  date  of  June  iith:  "The  matter  which 
now  embroils  Europe,  the  presumption  of  dictating  to  an  independent 
nation  the  form  of  its  government,  is  so  arrogant,  so  atrocious,  that  indig 
nation,  as  well  as  moral  sentiment,  enlists  all  our  partialities  and  prayers  in 
favor  of  one,  and  our  equal  exertions  against  the  other.  I  do  not  know, 
indeed,  whether  all  nations  do  not  owe  one  another  a  bold  and  open  declara 
tion  of  their  sympathies  with  the  one  part}',  and  their  detestation  of  the 
conduct  of  the  other.  Hut  farther  than  this  we  are  not  bound  to  go;  and, 
indeed,  for  the  sake  of  the  world,  we  ought  not  to  increase  the  jealousies,  or 
draw  on  ourselves  the  power,  of  this  formidable  confederacy.  I  have  ever 
deemed  it  fundamental  for  the  United  States  never  to  take  active  part  in  the 
quarrels  of  Europe."  In  his  opinion  all  we  could  do  for  Spain  was  to  make 
"our  neutrality  as  partial  as  would  be  justifiable  without  giving  cause  of  war 
to  her  adversary."  England  looked  with  longing  eyes  at  Cuba  as  the  richest 
portion  of  the  West  Indies,  and  evidently  wished  to  add  this  source  of 
profit  to  her  vast  possessions.  The  United  States  government  was  better 
satisfied  to  see  things  remain  as  they  then  were.  The  inhabitants  of  Cuba 
desired  independence;  failing  to  attain  that,  the  next  thing  to  be  desired 
was  annexation  to  the  United  States  or  to  Mexico.  Not  main-  months 
passed  before  new  interest  attached  to  this  question.  It  was  rumored  and 
believed,  in  both  England  and  America,  that  the  Holy  Alliance  now  pro 
posed  direct  interference  between  Spain  and  her  revolted  colonies.  The 
British  premier,  Mr.  Canning,  who  had  heretofore  shown  no  disposition  of 
respect  to  the  United  States,  earnestly  solicited  her  assistance  in  preserving 
the  integrity  of  Spain,  and  promised  full  support  of  England.  As  Mr. 
Monroe  had  before  consulted  with  Mr.  Jefferson  regarding  the  question,  so 
he  now  laid  before  him  the  condition  of  affairs. 

In  a  letter  to  his  former  private  secretary,  William  Short,  under  date 
August  4,  1820,  Mr.  Jefferson  gave  utterance  to  an  opinion  which  expressed 
in  full  the  advice  he  subsequently  gave  President  Monroe.  On  that  occasion 
he  said  :  "The  day  is  not  distant,  when  we  may  formally  require  a  merid 
ian  of  partition  through  the  ocean  which  separates  the  two  hemispheres,  on 
the  hither  side  of  which  no  European  gun  shall  ever  be  heard,  nor  an 
American  on  the  other  ;  and  when  during  the  rage  of  the  eternal  wars  of 
Europe,  the  lion  and  the  lamb,  within  our  regions,  shall  lie  down  together 


525  JAMES    MONROE. 

in  peace The  principles  of  society  there  and  here,  then,  are 

radically  different,  and  I  hope  no  American  patriot  will  ever  lose  sight  of 
the  essential  policy  of  interdicting  in  the  seas  and  territories  of  both 
Americas,  the  ferocious  and  sanguinary  contests  of  Europe."  In  his  reply 
to  the  communication  of  President  Monroe  he  first  asks  the  question,  "Do 
we  wish  to  acquire  to  our  own  confederacy  any  one  or  more  of  the  Spanish 
provinces?"  and  then  answers  that  "this  can  never  be  attained,  even  with 
her  [Cuba's]  own  consent,  but  by  war ;  and  if  its  independence,  which  is  our 
second  interest  (and  especially  its  independence  of  England),  can  be  secured 
without  it,  I  have  no  hesitation  in  abandoning  iny  first  wish  to  future 
chances,  and  accepting  its  independence,  with  peace  and  the  friend-ship  of 
England,  rather  than  its  association,  at  the  expense  of  war  and  her  enmity. 
I  could  honestly,  therefore,  join  in  the  declaration  proposed,  that  wre  aim 
not  at  the  acquisition  of  any  of  these  possessions,  that  we  will  not  stand  in 
the  way  of  any  amicable  arrangement  between  them  and  the  mother  coun 
try  ;  but  that  we  will  oppose,  with  all  our  means,  the  forcible  interposition 
of  any  other  power  as  auxiliary,  stipendiary,  or  under  any  other  form  or 
pretext,  and  most  especially,  their  transfer  to  any  power  by  conquest,  ces 
sion,  or  acquisition  in  any  other  way.  I  should  think  it,  therefore,  advisa 
ble,  that  the  Executive  should  encourage  the  British  government  to  a  con 
tinuance  in  the  disposition  expressed  in  the  letters,  by  an  assurance  of  his 
concurrence  with  them  as  far  as  his  authority  goes  ;  and  that  as  it  may  lead 
to  war,  the  declaration  of  which  requires  an  act  of  Congress,  the  case  shall 
be  laid  before  them  for  consideration  at  their  first  meeting,  and  under  the 
reasonable  aspect  in  which  it  is  seen  by  himself."  Thus  the  principles  that 
were  a  few  weeks  later  promulgated  by  Monroe  were  directly  suggested  by 
Jefferson  in  this  communication. 

President  Monroe's  message,  giving  utterance  to  the  famous  "  Monroe 
doctrine,"  was  published  December  2,  1823.  It  announced  that,  "We 
owe  it,  therefore,  to  candor  and  to  the  amicable  relations  existing  between 
the  United  States  and  those  powers,  to  declare  that  we  should  consider  any 
attempt  on  their  part  to  extend  their  system  to  any  portion  of  this  hemis 
phere,  as  dangerous  to  our  peace  and  safety.  With  existing  colonies  01 
dependencies  of  any  European  power  we  have  not  interfered,  and  shall  not 
interfere.  But  with  the  governments  which  have  declared  their  independ 
ence  and  maintained  it,  and  wrhose  independence  we  have  on  great  considera 
tions  and  on  just  principles  acknowledged,  we  could  not  view  any  interposi 
tion,  for  the  purpose  of  oppressing  them  or  controlling  in  any  measure  their 
destiny,  by  any  European  power,  in  any  other  light  than  as  the  manifesta 
tion  of  an  unfriendly  disposition  towards  the  United  States."  The  principle 
here  enunciated  has  since  remained  one  of  the  cardinal  doctrines  of  the 
government,  though  the  ill-advised  action  of  a  subsequent  secretary  of  the 
state,  in  the  case  of  the  occupation  by  a  British  force  of  certain  territory  in 


HIS    SECOND    ADMINISTRATION.  527 

Nicaragua,  had  the  effect  to,  in  a  measure,  annul  its  force,  and    establish  a 
precedent  in  direct  opposition  to  the  Monroe  doctrine. 

In  the  eighteenth  Congress,  which  convened  December  I,  1823,  again 
came  up  the  subject  of  internal  improvements.  Mr.  Monroe,  in  a  special 
message  submitted  to  Congress  May  4,  1822,  had  made  an  intelligent  and 
comprehensive  review  of  the  subject,  expressing  an  opinion  that  it  was 
beyond  the  powers  of  Congress.  The  growth  of  public  opinion  in  favor  of 
a  system  of  internal  improvements,  that  would  develop  the  vast  resources  of 
the  country,  caused  him  to  change  his  previous  views,  and  authorize  the 
necessary  surveys,  plans,  ana  estimates  for  such  canals  and  roads  as  would 
prove  of  national  benefit.  Congress  appropriated  the  sum  of  thirty  thou 
sand  dollars  for  this  purpose. 

As  early  as  1822,  when  yet  remained  three  years  of  Monroe's  sec 
ond  term  as  President,  the  question  relative  to  his  successor  occupied  the 
minds  of  politicians,  at  Washington  and  elsewhere.  Among  the  names 
proposed  as  candidates  were  William  H.  Crawford,  John  Ouincy  Adams, 
Henry  Clay,  John  C.  Calhoun,  and  General  Andrew  Jackson.  Events 
reduced  the  number  to  four.  The  vote  in  the  electoral  college  gave  Andrew 
Jackson  ninety-nine,  John  Ouincy  Adams  eighty-four,  William  H.  Crawford 
forty-one,  and  Henry  Clay  thirty-seven.  No  election  resulting,  the  ques 
tion  was,  under  the  Constitution,  removed  to  the  House  of  Representatives, 
where  it  was  determined  in  February,  1825,  Adams  receiving  the  vote  of 
thirteen  states,  General  Jackson  of  seven,  and  Crawford  of  four.  Retaining 
the  office  until  the  3d  of  March,  1825,  Monroe  witnessed  the  inauguration 
of  his  successor,  after  which  he  retired  to  private  life. 

His  administration  was  eminently  prosperous.  In  the  language  of  Mr. 
Adams:  "President  Monroe  strengthened  his  country  for  defense,  by  a  sys 
tem  of  combined  fortifications,  military  and  naval;  sustaining  her  rights,  her 
dignity  and  honor  abroad  ;  soothing  her  dissensions,  and  conciliating  her 
acerbities  at  home;  controlling  by  a  firm,  though  peaceful  poJicy,  the  hostile 
spirit  of  the  European  alliance  against  republican  Southern  America  ; 
extorting,  by  the  mild  compulsion  of  reason,  the  shores  of  the  Pacific 
from  the  stipulated  acknowledgment  of  Spain  ;  and  leading  back  the  imperial 
autocrat  of  the  north,  to  his  lawful  boundaries,  from  his  hastily-asserted 
dominion  over  the  southern  ocean.  Thus  strengthening  and  consolidating 
the  federative  edifice  of  his  country's  union,  till  he  was  entitled  to  say,  like 
Augustus  Cajsar  of  his  imperial  city,  that  he  had  found  her  built  of  brick, 
and  left  her  constructed  of  marble." 

Unlike  Jefferson  and  Madison,  his  predecessors  in  the  presidential  chair, 
Monroe  was  not  a  philosopher  or  a  statesman  ;  he  was  more  a  politician. 
Never  so  fertile  in  resource  as  either,  he  yet  seized  upon  and  amplified  ideas 
that  originated  in  the  brains  of  others,  and  achieved  a  popularity  in  the 
dominant  party  that  advanced  him  from  post  to  post  of  honor  until  he 


528  JAMES    MONROE. 

reached  the  height  of  ambition.  Though  essentially  at  the  head  of  the  party, 
he  was  not  a  formillator  of  principles,  but  had  the  faculty  of  adapting  and 
improving  upon  the  formulas  of  others  until  they  were  accepted  as  his  own. 
Never  brilliant  in  expedient,  he  was  yet  persevering  in  the  line  of  conduct 
he  deemed  best  adapted  to  secure  a  desired  end.  As  a  foreign  minister  he 
was  mainly  guided  by  instructions  from  government;  sometimes  too  liter 
ally  construing  these  and  bringing  upon  himself  condemnation,  as  was  the 
case  when  minister  to  France  in  1794-96.  Again  was 'this  true  when  he, 
in  conjunction  with  William  Pinkney,  negotiated  a  treaty  of  commerce  with 
England,  so  obviously  at  variance  with  any  spirit  of  justice  to  his  own 
country  that  President  Jefferson  returned  it,  with  instructions  that  it  be 
amended  or  the  subject  indefinitely  postponed.  This  occurrence  immediately 
followed  the  treaty  with  France  by  which  was  acquired  the  territory  of 
Louisiana,  and  the  ownership  of  the  Mississippi  river — of  the  greatest 
importance  to  the  United  States — the  credit  for  which  negotiation  belonged 
to  Robert  R.  Livingston,  resident  minister  to  France,  rather  than  to  Mr. 
Monroe. 

While  Jefferson  and  Madison  were  not  averse  to  high  official  honors, 
Monroe  left  unturned  no  stone  that  would  help  to  insure  success.  The 
nomination  of  Mr.  Madison  in  1808,  as  candidate  for  President,  wounded 
him  deeply,  and  called  from  him  several  exceedingly  sharp  letters  to  Mr. 
Jefferson,  who  he  conceived  to  be  in  a  measure  responsible  for  his  failure 
to  secure  the  nomination.  It  has  already  been  shown  that  the  measure  since 
known  as  the  "Monroe  doctrine,"  was  directly  proposed  to  him  by  Mr. 
Jefferson;  which  bears  out  the  assertion  that  he  was  not  a  formulator  of 
doctrine,  but  instead,  followed  where  others  led.  All  in  all,  Mr.  Monroe 
was^more  a  politician  than  a  statesman;  more  a  military  man  than  either. 
His  early  life  was  spent  in  the  camp  and  on  the  field,  and  had  events  given 
opportunity  he  might  have  achieved  renown  as  a  soldier,  though  it  is  prob 
able  he  would  never  have  attained  to  the  high  place  he  reached  in  civic 
honors. 

He  was  an  honest  and  an  honorable  man,  and  as  chief  magistrate  com 
manded  the  respect  of  men  of  all  parties.  Though  in  the  course  of  his  life 
he  received  from  the  treasury  of  the  United  States,  for  his  public  services, 
the  sum  of  three  hundred  and  fifty-eight  thousand  dollars,  he  was  largely  in 
debt  on  his  retirement  from  office.  This  was  in  part  due  to  the  fact  that 
when  secretary  of  state  during  the  war  of  1812,  he  pledged  his  private 
credit  to  the  support  of  government  in  preparing  for  the  defense  of  New 
Orleans,  for  which  sum  he  had  not  as  yet  been  reimbursed.  He  was  finally 
relieved  by  an  act  of  Congress,  which  adjusted  his  claims. 

At  the  close  of  his  presidential  career  Mr.  Monroe  retired  to  his  resi 
dence  in  Loudoun  county,  Virginia,  where  he  was  soon  after  appointed  a 
county  magistrate,  which  office  he  retained  until  his  departure  for  New 


ESTIMATE    OF    HIS    ABILITIES — DEATH. 

York.  In  1817  he  was  associated  with  Jefferson  and  Madison,  on  the  board 
sf  visitors  of  the  Central  college,  of  Virginia,  afterwards  incorporated  into 
the  University  of  Virginia,  of  which  he  became  curator  some  years  after 
his  retirement.  In  1830  he  was  elected  member  of  the  convention  called  to 
revise  the  constitution  of  the  state,  and  on  the  declination  of  the  chair  by 
Mr.  Madison,  was  chosen  president  of  the  convention.  Illness,  however, 
prevented  his  remaining  throughout  the  subsequent  deliberations,  and  he 
was  compelled  to  retire  to  his  residence. 

Little  is  known  concerning  the  wife  of  Mr.  Monroe,  or  the  antecedents 
of  her  family.  That  her  name  was  Eliza  Kortright,  and  her  father  a  cap 
tain  in  the  British  service,  who  settled  in  New  York  soon  after  the  close  of 
the  revolution,  is  known.  It  is  supposed  Mr.  Monroe  met  her  in  society 
when  himself  a  member  of  the  Congress  which  assembled  in  New  York. 
In  1786,  he  addressed  a  letter  to  his  friend,  James  Madison,  in  which  he 
said:  "  If  you  visit  this  place  shortly,  I  will  present  you  to  a  young  lady 
who  will  be  adopted  by  a  citizen  of  Virginia  in  the  course  of  this  week." 
This  communication  was  dated  February  iith,  and  it  is  evident  the}*  were 
married  within  a  few  days  thereafter.  No  record  of  the  date  is  in  existence 
in  the  families  of  any  of  his  descendants.  Mrs.  Monroe  accompanied  her 
husband  on  his  several  journeys  to  Europe,  and  there  remained  during  his 
protracted  residence  abroad.  Soon  after  his  marriage  he  purchased  a  home 
in  Loudoun  count}',  Virginia,  where  his  family  resided  during  the  years  he 
spent  in  the  cabinet  of  President  Madison,  and  from  which  he  went  to  his 
own  inauguration  as  President.  In  the  executive  mansion  Mrs.  Monroe 
was  surrounded  by  admirers ;  though  not  educated  to  the  etiquette  of  the 
court,  her  residence  in  Europe  and  frequent  attendance  at  court  in  France, 
England  and  Spain,  had  given  her  self-poise  and  a  certain  stateliness  that 
well  became  the  mistress  of  the  White  House.  Her  death  occurred  at 
Oak  Hill,  in  1830.  Soon  thereafter  Mr.  Monroe  went  to  New  York  and 
passed  the  remainder  of  his  life  with  his  youngest  daughter,  who  had 
become  the  wife  of  Samuel  L.  Gouverneur,  where,  on  the  4th  day  of  July, 
1831,  he  died.  The  elder  of  his  two  children  married  George  Hay,  of 
Richmond,  and  for  many  years  resided  in  that  city. 

In  personal  appearance  Mr.  Monroe  was  tall  and  well-formed,  being 
over  six  feet  in  stature,  with  light  complexion  and  blue  eyes.  He  possessed 
no  striking  intellectual  characteristics,  but  exhibited  an  honesty  of  purpose 
that  could  not  fail  to  win  the  admiration  and  respect  of  all  who  personally 
knew  him.  Slow  of  thought  and  unimaginative,  he  yet  in  a  measure  com 
pensated  for  this  lack  by  diligence  and  industry.  He  was  a  close  student, 
but  lacked  the  purpose  of  Jefferson  and  Madison,  his  early  and  life-long 
associates.  He  was,  however,  a  thorough  Virginian,  possessed  of  much  old- 
school  courtliness  of  manner,  generous  to  his  friends,  and  devoted  to  his 
country. 


53O  JAMES    MONROE. 

In  any  consideration  of  the  administration  or  life  of  James  Monroe,  one 
must  of  neo^r/sity  put  to  the  front  as  the  great  distinctive  feature  of  the 
former,  and  the  one  which  is  sure  to  be  quoted  in  all  discussions  bearing 
thereon,  the  doctrine  that  he  put  forward  and  maintained  with  such  patri 
otic  vigor — the  doctrine  that  in  its  legitimate  conclusions  makes  our  Nation 
the  friend  and  defender  of  the  weaker  republics  lying  almost  under  the 
natural  protection  of  our  flag.  "The  Monroe  doctrine,"  as  one  able 
writer  has  fittingly  said,  "properly  considered,  is  not  a  mere  solitary 
axiom  of  diplomacy,  of  disputable  meaning,  of  uncertain  application,  or 
of  no  valid  authority.  On  the  contrary,  it  represents  a  comprehensive 
system  of  policy,  both  consistent  and  of  profound  wisdom,  including  the 
whole  conduct  of  our  government  toward  the  new  republics  of  Spanish 
America,  from  their  first  efforts  at  independence  until  their  full  nation 
ality  obtained  the  recognition  of  Europe.  Theoretically  it  is  a  great 
'System  of  Doctrine,'  arising  out  of  the  nature  of  our  institutions,  regu 
lating  our  relations  both  with  Europe  and  America,  and  essential  to  the 
permanency  of  our  National  character  and  independence.  Of  this  sys- 
temized  foreign  policy  Mr.  Monroe  was  undoubtedly  the  father.  It  was 
settled  during  his  administration,  and  it  is  certain  that  he  was  the  actual 
President  of  the  United  States,  and  himself  administered  the  executive 
government,  employing  his  secretaries  as  responsible  advisers  and  execu 
tive  agents.  Mr.  Monroe  would  naturally  keep  the  control  of  our  foreign 
intercourse  in  his  own  hand,  because  he  understood  that  subject  better  than 
anyone  else.  From  the  time  when,  a  young  man  in  the  old  congress,  he  had 
baffled  the  Spanish  Encargado  and  vindicated  the  free  navigation  of  the 
Mississippi,  foreign  relations  had  been  his  specialty,  and  he  had  been 
looked  to  as  a  chief  counselor  and  manager  in  these  affairs  by  Washington, 
Jefferson  and  Madison.  The  suggestion  so  often  put  forth,  that  Mr. 
Adams  was  tie  author  of  the  Monroe  doctrine,  is  without  the  slightest 
warrant,  and  is  unjust  to  both  Adams  and  Monroe.  Mr.  Adams  was  the 
most  accomplished  scholar  in  diplomacy ;  but  in  profoundness  of  insight 
and  soundness  of  judgment  as  to  what  concerned  the  National  honor  and 
independence,  Mr.  Monroe  was  the  greater  statesman,  and  impartial  his 
tory  must  give  him  the  credit  of  the  masterly  policy  which  steered  the 
government  through  the  difficulties  growing  out  of  the  Spanish-American 
revolution,  ar?<l  made  the  United  States  a  dictator  to  Europe  in  regard  to 
the  western  Continent.  The  Monroe  doctrine,  considered  thus  as  a  symbol 
or  exponent  of  the  system  adopted  by  Mr.  Monroe  in  relation  to  the 
Spanish- A vnerican  states,  may  be  characterized  as  a  system  of  duty  which 
is  moraUy  right,  politically  wise,  and  logically  consistent.  Thus  viewed, 
it  maybe  taken  as  a  testimony  that  this  Nation  will  do  right;  that  the 
political  system  of  Europe  is  incompatible  with  that  of  America  ;  that  we 
will  do  what  we  can  to  lead  Europe  to  a  better  system  and  to  bring 


HIS    SECOND    ADMINISTRATION.  53! 

diplomacy  under  the  Higher  Law;  that  \ve  consider  the  whole  of  this  con 
tinent  appropriated,  and  that  we  will  hold  any  attempted  intervention 
of  European  powers  for  the  sake  of  controlling  affairs  in  America  an  in 
jury  to  ourselves,  which  we  shall  resent  or  resist  as  we  think  proper.  This 
system  of  doctrine  is  substantially  identical  with  the  immortal  policy  of 
Washington,  as  exhibited  in  his  proclamation  of  neutrality — the  sublimest 
act  of  his  government — and  laid  down  so  explicitly  in  his  farewell  address, 
in  words  of  almost  superhuman  wisdom:  'Europe  has  a  set  of  primacy 
which  to  us  have  none  or  a  very  remote  relation.  Hence  she  must  be  en 
gaged  in  frequent  controversies,  the  causes  of  which  are  essentially  foreign 
to  our  concerns.  Hence,  therefore,  it  must  be  unwise  in  us  to  implicate  our 
selves  by  artificial  ties  in  the  ordinary  vicissitudes  of  her  politics,  or  the 
ordinary  combinations  and  collisions  of  her  friendships  or  enmities.  Our 
detached  and  distant  situation  invites  and  enables  us  to  preserve  a  differ 
ent  course.  If  we  remain  one  people,  under  an  efficient  government,  the 
period  is  not  far  off  when  we  may  defy  material  injury  from  external  an 
noyance;  when  we  may  take  such  an  attitude  as  will  cause  the  neutrality 
we  may  at  any  time  resolve  upon  to  be  scrupulously  respected;  when 
belligerent  nations,  under  the  impossibility  of  making  acquisitions  upon 
us,  will  not  lightly  hazard  the  giving  us  provocation  ;  when  we  may  choose 
peace  or  war,  as  our  interest,  guided  by  justice,  shall  counsel.  Why 
forego  the  advantages  of  so  peculiar  a  situation  ?  Why  quit  our  own,  to 
stand  upon  foreign  ground?  Why,  by  interweaving  our  destiny  with  that 
of  any  part  of  Europe,  entangle  our  prosperity  in  the  toils  of  European 
ambition,  rivalry,  interest,  humor  or  caprice  ?' 

' '  It  comprises,  in  substance,  also  the  principle  of  non-intervention,  which 
the  liberals  of  continental  Europe  long  for,  and  which  Kossuth  argued  for 
so  effectively  in  this  country.  It  is  not,  however,  a  namby-pamby  senti- 
mentalism  of  non-intervention,  which  idly  weeps  for  the  sufferings  of  the 
oppressed,  but  lifts  neither  hand  nor  voice  for  their  deliverance.  It  is  not 
the  cold  selfishness  of  Cain,  when  he  whined  out,  'Am  I  my  brother's 
keeper?'  It  is  not  the  cowardice  of  imbecility  which  shrinks  from  speak 
ing  the  truth,  or  doing  what  is  right  through  base  and  servile  fear  of  loss. 
It  is  intervention  withstood  manfully  and  prevented  energetically.  In 
proper  circumstances  it  bids  the  oppressor,  'Hold!'  and  if  that  is  in 
effectual,  boldly  takes  him  by  the  throat  and  hurls  him  back  from  his  vic 
tims.  It  means  that  we  will  not  submit  to  wrong  toward  ourselves,  and 
when  duty  calls  we  will  censure  and  even  resent  a  wrong  done  to  others. 
It  includes  what  Kossuth  termed  'Intervention  for  non-intervention.' 
The  closing  declaration  by  President  Monroe  produced  an  effect  upon 
Europe  which  it  is  impossible  for  the  present  generation  to  realize.  That 
whole  continent  was  then  firmly  united  in  one  political  system,  devised  by 
the  highest  human  sagacity,  fortified  by  the  most  solemn  compacts,  and 


532  JAMES    MONROE. 

sustained  by  veteran  armies,  and  all  actuated  by  a  common  conviction 
that  the  one  grand  political  danger  of  the  civilized  world  was  in  the  spread 
of  liberal  principles,  of  which  the  United  States  were  the  source  and  the 
seed-bed.  And  while  they  were  actually  negotiating  among  themselves  for 
the  commencement  of  operations  that  it  was  expected  would  cripple  and 
ultimately  crush  us,  behold  !  they  are  suddenly  confronted  by  the  young 
Republic  looking  all  Europe  boldly  in  the  face  and  crying  '  Hands  off,  ruf 
fians!  '  And  they  very  prudently  kept  hands  off  for  forty  years. 

"Mr.  Monroe's  administration  maybe  deemed  to  have  culminated  in 
the  utterance  of  the  great  declaration.  Its  boldness  fairly  stunned  the 
holy  alliance,  and  by  taking  from  that  huge  conspiracy  its  prestige  of 
irresistibleness,  took  it  down  from  the  height  of  its  arrogance,  and  was  the 
first  blow  toward  its  dissolution.  The  last  year  of  his  term  was  rendered 
unhappy  by  personal  divisions  among  the  members  of  his  cabinet,  three 
out  of  the  four  being  eager  candidates  for  the  next  succession,  in  addition 
to  his  favorite  speaker  of  the  house  and  the  most  distinguished  general 
whom  he  had  promoted." 

Mr.  Adams  speaks  in  the  highest  terms  of  Mr.  Monroe's  character  and 
history,  and  eulogizes  his  whole  career  as  characteristic  "of  a  mind 
anxious  and  unwearied  in  the  pursuit  of  truth  and  right;  patient  of  in 
quiry,  patient  of  contradiction,  courteous,  even  in  the  collision  of  senti 
ment;  sound  in  its  ultimate  judgments,  and  firm  in  its  final  conclusions." 
Referring  to  his  course  while  President,  he  makes  use  of  the  following 
strong  and  complimentary  terms:  "There  behold  him  for  a  term  of  eight 
years,  strengthening  his  country  for  defense  by  a  system  of  combined 
fortifications,  military  and  naval ;  sustaining  her  rights,  her  dignity  and 
honor  abroad;  soothing  her  dissensions  and  conciliating  her  acerbities  at 
home;  controlling  by  a  firm,  though  peaceful  policy  the  hostile  spirit  of 
the  European  alliance  against  republican  southern  America ;  extorting  by 
the  mild  compulsion  of  reason  the  shores  of  the  Pacific  from  the  stipulated 
acknowledgment  of  Spain,  and  leading  back  the  imperial  autocrat  of  the 
north  to  his  lawful  boundaries  from  his  hastily  asserted  dominion  over  the 
southern  ocean,  thus  strengthening  and  consolidating  the  federative  edifice 
of  his  country's  union,  till  he  was  entitled  to  say,  like  Augustus  Caesar, 
of  his  imperial  city,  that  he  had  found  her  built  of  brick  and  left  her  con, 
structed  of  marble." 


JOHN    QUINCY   ADAMS. 


I 


CHAPTER  I. 

EARLY  LIFE  -  ENTRANCE  UPON  A  PUBLIC  CAREER. 

OHN  QUINCY  ADAMS  was  born  at  Braintree,  (now  Quincy),  Mas 
sachusetts,  some  ten  miles  from  Boston,  July  11,  1767.  His  father 
+J  was  John  Adams,  and  his  mother,  Abigail  Smith.  He  was  fourth  in 
descent  from  Henry  Adams,  who  emigrated  from  England  in  1640,  and  set 
tled  at  Braintree,  where  he  had  a  grant  of  forty  acres  of  land.  Adams  was 
named  after  a  grandfather  of  his  mother,  John  Quincy,  a  man  of  more 
than  local  reputation  among  the  primitive  settlements  of  Massachusetts  col 
ony.  A  deep  affection  existed  between  him  and  his  granddaughter,  and  her 
son  being  born  while  the  old  man  was  dying,  she  insisted  on  perpetuating 
the  name,  with  the  hope  that  the  second  John  Quincy  would  inherit  the 
sterling  integrity  and  sound  judgment  that  made  his  namesake  conspicuous. 
In  the  lists  of  the  pioneers  of  Massachusetts,  both  the  Adamses  and  the 
Quincys  stand  without  the  significant  "  Mr. "  marking  the  patricians.  The 
Quincys  ranked  socially  above  the  Adamses,  as  did  also  the  Smiths,  with 
the  advantage  derived  from  the  Quincy  alliance. 

The  younger  Adams  must  have  had  but  a  gleam  of  childhood  and 
youth.  Before  he  was  ten  he  wrote  grand  letters  of  self-reproof,  for  his 
conscious  short-comings.  At  eleven  he  wanted  a  blank  book,  in  which  to 
begin  a  diary,  and  he  actually  made  the  first  entry  when  he  was  twelve. 
The  work,  however,  had  a  longer  infancy  than  its  famous  author.  His  father 
was  appointed  commissioner  to  France,  and  sailed  for  that  kingdom  in  Feb 
ruary,  I//S,  taking  with  him  his  son,  then  in  his  eleventh  year.  The  pas 
sage,  made  in  the  old  Boston  frigate,  was  tempestuous  and  protracted. 

533 


534  JOHN    QUIXCY    ADAMS. 

and  the  land  journey  rapid  and  fatiguing.  He  enjoyed  many  months  of 
school  near  Paris,  and  returned  home  with  his  father  during  the  following 
year,  in  a  French  frigate,  which  brought  the  ambassador,  Chevalier  Luzerne 
and  his  suite,  to  the  new  republic.  He  is  said  to  have  made  himself  useful 
and  interesting  to  the  diplomats,  to  whom  he  gave  needed  lessons  in  the  Eng 
lish  tongue,  the  Frenchmen  laughingly  complaining  of  the  exacting  nature 
of  his  lessons. 

Three  months  and  a  half  at  home,  when  the  same  ship  bore  him  with 
his  father,  on  a  second  mission  to  the  court  of  Loi'.is  XVI.  He  arrived  in 
Paris  in  February,  1780,  then  in  his  thirteenth  year  of  age.  During  this 
second  visit,  he  was  at  school  near  Paris,  accompanied  his  father  to  Holland, 
had  some  months  of  school  in  Amsterdam,  and  was  then  placed  in  the 
University  of  Leyden.  During  these  months  he  associated  much  with  the 
prominent  men  about  his  father,  and  saw  much  of  the  European  world  and 
life.  In  perfect  health,  good  natured  and  cheerful,  acute  and  observing,  all 
his  opportunities  were  improved.  He  was  not  yet  fourteen  when  he  entered 
upon  his  first  diplomatic  employment.  Francis  Dana,  afterward  chief  jus 
tice  of  Massachusetts,  and  father  of  R.  H.  Dana,  the  poet,  at  that  time  sec 
retary  to  the  American  commission,  was  commissioned  minister  to  Russia, 
and  appointed  young  Adams  his  secretary  of  legation.  Nothing  came  of 
the  mission,  as  the  minister  did  not  obtain  recognition.  The  youth 
remained  connected  with  the  legation  more  than  a  year,  acquitting  himself 
with  credit,  and  then  alone  made  a  leisurely  journey,  of  many  months,  from 
St.  Petersburg  through  Sweden  and  Denmark,  visiting  Hamburg,  Bremen, 
and  other  cities.  When  he  rejoined  his  father  he  found  him  with  Franklin  and 
Jefferson,  negotiating  the  treaty  of  peace  of  October,  1783,  which  ended  the 
war.  After  his  arrival,  he  was  enlisted  as  a  secretary,  and  had  a  hand  in  pre 
paring  the  papers  by  which  Great  Britain  conceded  the  independence  of  the 
United  States.  After  the  signing  of  the  treaty  he  attended  his  father  on  his 
first  visit  to  England,  and  returned  writh  him  to  Paris.  Meantime  his 
mother  and  the  rest  of  the  family  went  to  Europe,  and  together  they  spent 
the  year  1784  in  Paris. 

In  April,  1785,  arrived  the  French  packet,  Lc  Courier  dc  I  Orient,  with 
the  news  of  the  appointment  of  John  Adams  minister  to  the  court  of  St. 
James.  John  Quincy  was  then  nearly  eighteen,  mature  for  his  years,  and 
had  reached  a  point  in  his  career  where  he  decided  its  future  course.  To  be 
secretary  of  legation,  reside  in  London,  continue  in  the  rich,  full  tide  of  old 
world  life,  would  have  been  too  alluring  to  any  other  young  man  of  that  or 
this  time ;  and  might  have  been  the  wiser  thing  to  do.  The  glitter  of  the 
position  had  little  effect  on  the  Puritan  nature  of  the  young  man.  Austerely 
he  turned  his  back  upon  it,  accompanied  the  family  to  London,  saw  them 
established,  and  sailed  away  alone  to  the  thin  and  comparatively  meager 
life  of  the  New  England  metropolis. 


ENTRANCE  UPON  A  PUBLIC  CAREER.  53^ 

He  entered  the  junior  class  of  Harvard  in  1786,  and  graduated  in 
1787,  as  the  last  authority  is.  He  was  predetermined  to  the  law,  and 
there  being  no  law  school,  he  entered  the  office  of  Thcophilus  Parsons,  at 
Newburyport,  afterward  a  famous  chief  justice,  where  he  remained  three 
years,  and  was  admitted  to  the  bar  in  1790,  being  then  twenty-three  years 
of  age.  His  father  was  admitted  at  the  same  age.  He  opened  an  office  in 
Boston,  and  sat  down  to  endure  the  anxious  solitude,  that  always  docs  its 
best  to  overwhelm  the  young  lawyer,  compelled  to  await  the  approach  of 
clients,  who,  in  his  case,  showed  no  unbecoming  eagerness  to  interrupt  it. 
He  was  not  one  to  attract.  He  had  strong  will  and  industry,  and  began 
slowly  and  certainly  to  make  his  way. 

Meantime  his  thought  and  hand  were  in  other  work.  Thomas  Paine's 
Rights  of  Man  appeared  in  1791,  and  attracted  much  attention  in  this  coun 
try  and  in  England.  The  work  was  assailed  by  young  Adams  in  a  series  of 
papers,  signed  Publicola,  which  also  attracted  attention  in  both  countries, 
and  were  ascribed  to  his  father,  one  of  the  most  vigorous  writers  of  that 
day.  He  also  reviewed  the  course  of  the  French  minister,  Genet,  in  this 
country,  in  newspaper  articles  of  much  vigor,  and,  in  a  third  set,  sustained 
the  course  of  Washington's  administration  in  maintaining  the  neutrality  of 
the  republic  in  the  European  wars.  Although  all  these  productions  were 
given  with  fictitious  signatures,  the  young  writer  became  known,  and 
attracted  the  attention  of  the  President,  who  on  the  29th  of  May,  1/94, 
nominated  him  minister  resilient  at  the  Hague,  in  which  office  he  was  unani 
mously  confirmed  the  next  day.  lie  was  then  in  his  twenty-seventh  year. 
The  appointment  was  a  great  relief  to  him.  Passages  of  his  diary  of  a  pre 
ceding  date,  show  him  chafing  under  enforced  idleness  and  obscurity.  He 
was  one  of  the  most  ambitious  of  men. 

After  a  voyage  of  much  peril  in  a  leaky  ship,  he  reached  the  Hague  on 
the  last  day  of  October.  Those  were  the  ilays  of  the  uprising  and  arming 
of  the  French  people  against  their  neighbors.  All  Europe  was  arming;  at 
the  first,  to  subdue  them,  finally,  in  self  defense.  Holland  was  a  republic, 
her  chief  the  stndtholiler.  Scarcely  had  the  young  minister  presented  his 
credentials,  when  the  stadtholder  was  obliged  to  flee.  Pichegrue,  who 
overrun  Holland  in  ten  days,  came  marching  into  the  capital,  brought  out 
the  tri-colored  flag  of  blood  and  conquest,  and  established  the  Batavian 
republic.  There  was  a  flight  of  the  diplomats.  Mr.  Adams  was  inclined  to 
go  also  ;  though  not  for  reasons  which  controlled  the  rest.  He  was  cordially 
treated  by  the  French'and  their  native  allies,  and  nothing  but  his  shrewdness 
and  prudence,  saved  him  from  the  entanglements  of  their  dangerous 
favor.  In  the  changed  condition  of  the  country  he  was  left  without 
employment, — a  condition  most  irksome  to  him  ;  and  he  thought  he  ought  to 
return  home.  Washington,  whose  entire  confidence  he  had  gained,  directed 
him  to  stay  at  his  post,  telling  him  he  would  soon  be  at  the  head  of  the 


JOHN    QL'IXCY    ADAMS. 

diplomatic  service  of  his  country.  He  remained,  a  close  and  shrewd 
observer  of  men  and  things,  reading  and  studying  European  politics,  men, 
and  histories,  and  extending  his  personal  acquaintance  with  all  the  leading 
personages,  to  whom  his  position  gave  him  access.  He  had  little  business 
to  transact,  and  was  thus  master  of  his  own  time,  a  commodity  he  never 
squandered. 

In  1795  he  was  directed  to  proceed  to  London  and  exchange  ratifica 
tions  of  the  famous  and  largely  odious  Jay  treaty.  Though  a  series  of  vex 
atious  delays  prevented  his  performance  of  this  mission,  it  led  to  the  nego 
tiation  of  a  treaty  more  important  to  him,  and  not  without  significance  to 
his  country.  In  1797,  while  at  Nantes,  awaiting  an  opportunity  to  embark 
for  America,  the  Adamses,  father  and  son,  made  the  acquaintance  of  an 
American  merchant  of  that  city — Joshua  Johnson.  He  was  a  Marylander 
— a  brother  of  Thomas  Johnson,  of  that  state  ;  a  signer  of  the  declaration  ; 
governor  of  Maryland,  and  later  one  of  the  judges  of  the  supreme  court  of 
the  United  States.  Joshua  Johnson  had  a  young  daughter,  Louisa  Cath 
arine,  and  the  young  boy  and  girl  there  became  acquainted.  On  this  visit  to 
London,  the  young  diplomat  found  Joshua  Johnson  the  American  consul 
of  that  capital.  He  found  Miss  Louisa  Catharine,  a  mature  and  most 
accomplished  young  lady  of  rare  personal  attraction.  A  lack  of  ardor  of 
temperament  was  not  a  defect  in  the  character  of  the  young  man,  and  an 
attachment  grew  up  between  the  young  people,  which  led  to  their  mar 
riage  in  July  26,  1797,  when  he  was  thirty  years  old.  This  was  one 
of  the  Adams'  fortunate  and  happy  marriages.  Preceding  this  event,  and 
near  the  close  of  his  administration  Washington  transferred  Mr.  Adams 
from  the  Hague  to  Portugal.  Meantime  the  people  had  elected  the  senior 
Adams,  President.  To  the  young  man  this  was  a  source  of  perplexing 
embarrassment,  as  was  the  position  of  the  son  also  to  the  father.  That 
the  advancement  of  the  father  should  work  disadvantage  to  the  son,  would 
be  unjust,  and  a  charge  of  nepotism  was  also  to  be  avoided.  In  this  dilemma, 
Washington  came  to  the  aid  of  both,  and  in  a  written  communication 
declared  to  the  elder  that  his  son  was  the  ablest  man  in  the  foreign  service, 
had  earned  promotion  and  was  entitled  to  receive  it.  The  voice  of  Wash 
ington  in  or  out  of  the  capital,  had  equal  potency,  and  the  destiny  of  the 
son  was  changed  from  Lisbon  to  Berlin,  w^here  he  arrived  with  his  bride  in 
November,  1797.  At  the  gates  of  the  city  a  lieutenant  questioned  his  right 
of  entrance.  Mr.  Adams  tried  to  explain,  and  told  the  officer  who  and 
what  he  was.  The  lieutenant  had  never  heard  of  America  ;  a  private  of 
the  guard  had,  and  the  representative  of  the  west  was  permitted  to  enter, 
and  in  due  time  make  his  bow  to  Frederick  William  II.,  nephew  of  the 
great  Frederick.  There  was  as  little  to  do  in  Berlin  as  at  the  Hague.  Mr. 
Adams  negotiated  a  treaty  of  commerce,  \vith  a  power  with  which  it  was 
impossible  to  trade,  and  another  with  Sweden,  which  was  of  more  advantage, 


ENTRANT  UPON  A  PUBLIC  CAREER.  537 

One  of  the  last  acts  of  President  Adams  was  to  recall  his  son,  so  that 
Mr.  Jefferson  might  not  be  embarrassed,  and  the  son  be  saved  from  the 
hand  of  the  family  foe,  as  Mr.  Jefferson  was  then  considered.  With  all  our 
knowledge  and  experience  of  the  excitement  and  commotion  produced  by 
political  party  strife,  and  the  hatreds  and  animosities  often  arising  among 
the  leaders  of  the  same  party,  it  is  very  difficult  to  reproduce  the  condition 
of  men  and  parties  as  they  existed  when  Mr.  Adams  returned.  The 
federal  party,  devoted  to  consolidating  and  putting  in  working  order  the 
feeble  machinery  of  the  Constitution,  and  carrying  it  forward  until  its  power 
to  accomplish  most  of  the  specified  purposes  of  its  creation  was  demon 
strated  ;  had  shown  itself  incapable  of  acquiring  the  new  ideas  and  adopting 
a  policy  needed  for  a  further  advance.  Bitterly  as  it  was  hated  by  the 
national  republicans,  the  hatred  of  many  of  the  leading  federalists  for  Presi 
dent  Adams  was  more  intense.  This  was  if  possible  more  than  reciprocated 
by  him.  No  great  man  in  our  history  ever  fell  so  hopelessly  and  help 
lessly  from  power  as  did  he,  on  the  loss  of  the  presidency.  It  is  said  that 
he  drove  away  from  the  capital  in  "  a  wild  rage,"  on  the  night  of  March  3, 
1 80 1,  to  avoid  the  pageant  of  his  rival's  inauguration  the  next  day.  Mr. 
Hamilton  thought  himself  aggrieved.  He  published  a  pamphlet  against  the 
President,  and  while  he  ostensibly  supported  his  re-election,  he  would  have 
been  very  willing  to  see  him  fall  behind  C.  C.  Pinckney,  and  so,  in  the 
event  of  success,  descend  to  the  position  of  Vice  President.  The  Presi 
dent's  appointment  of  the  mission  to  France  among  his  latest  acts,  with 
out  consulting  his  cabinet,  and  after  he  had  declared  he  would  not,  was 
the  immediate  cause  of  the  disruption  of  his  party.  It  led  to  a  dismissal 
of  his  cabinet,  and  though  undoubtedly  of  great  benefit  to  his  country,  it 
contributed  largely  to  his  own  downfall.  There  were  old  causes  of  enmity 
between  him  and  Pickering,  whom  he  hated  with  an  intensity  second  to  his 
hatred  of  Hamilton  ;  the  latter  he  always  charged  with  his  defeat  in  the  can 
vass  of  1800. 

The  leading  federalists  of  Massachusetts  were  Hamilton's  friends,  and 
although  the  younger  Adams  was  no  way  personally  connected  with  the 
causes  which  produced  the  unhappy  state  of  things  existing  in  the  country, 
he  naturally  regarded  himself  as  of  his  father's  faction,  and  was  so  held 
by  friends  and  enemies,  of  all  parties.  The  feeling  of  Mr.  Jefferson 
toward  the  son  personally,  is  shown  by  his  prompt  removal  from  the  posi 
tion  of  commissioner  in  bankruptcy,  to  which,  since  his  return,  he  had  been 
appointed  by  the  United  States  district  court  of  Massachusetts.  He  at 
once  opened  a  law  office,  and  addressed  himself  vigorously  to  the  half  for 
gotten  texts  of  Coke  and  Fearne.  At  the  April  election  of  1802,  the  fed 
eralists  of  Boston  elected  him  a  senator,  in  the  state  legislature.  The  posi 
tion  was  one  then  sought  by  prominent  men,  and  opened  the  door  to 
political  life,  for  which  he  was  undoubtedly  born  with  a  predilection. 


538  JOHN    QUIXCY    ADAMS. 


CHAPTER  II. 

ELECTED  SENATOR— ACCEPTS  A  FOREIGN  APPOINTMENT. 

IN  February,  1803,  came  on  an  election  for  United  States  senator,  when 
he  was  chosen  on  the  fourth  ballot,  receiving  eighty-six  votes  out  of 
one  hundred  and  seventy-one.  This  was  certainly  very  handsome  on  the 
part  of  the  anti-Adams  wing,  when  it  is  remembered  that  Timothy  Picker 
ing  eagerly  sought  the  place ;  an  old  man  of  strong  claims,  for  lifelong  ser 
vice,  eminent  ability,  and  friendship  for  Hamilton.  In  October,  1803,  the 
senator-elect  made  his  way  to  the  grim  mud  beleaguered  village  by  the 
yellow  Potomac,  bearing  the  name  of  the  father  of  his  country.  Those 
familiar  with  the  capital  of  to-day,  even  with  the  aid  of  his  diary  and  the 
letters  to  his  mother,  are  unable  to  form  any  conception  of  its  abject  mean 
ness  and  squalor.  Here  he  was  to  appreciate,  perhaps  for  the  first  time, 
the  bitterness  and  strength  of  the  hatred  borne  his  father  by  nearly  all  men 
in  public  life ;  and  that  these  were  glad  to  find  in  the  son  an  object  upon 
which  it  might  spend  itself.  Social  considerations  restrained  it  in  Massachu 
setts  ;  Washington  presented  an  unobstructed  field.  He  was  game  for  the 
republicans,  and  the  federalists  expended  on  him  the  rancor  so  powerless 
against  the  majority.  In  this  uncongenial  atmosphere  he  attempted  to 
speak  little  ;  that  little  pleased  no  one.  He  attempted  to  do  little  ;  that 
little  invariably  failed.  The  only  effect  his  advocacy  had  upon  any  measure, 
was  to  insure  its  defeat,  though  in  some  instances  it  was  afterward  car 
ried.  There  was  at  the  first  no  comradeship  between  him  and  any  of 
his  fellow  senators.  Soon  after  his  advent  in  the  senate,  Mr.  Pickering  also 
secured  a  seat  there,  which  certainly  did  not  add  comfort  to  Adams' 
position.  Though  never  possessing  large  tact,  he  was  cool,  courageous,  firm, 
industrious  ;  and  began  slowly  to  gain  upon  the  esteem  and  good  will  of  his 
fellows,  until  he  finally  forced  his  way  to  a  position  of  importance  and 
prominence.  The  hard  work  on  committees  he  cheerfully  undertook  and 
faithfully  performed.  The  first  important  matter  to  be  passed  upon  was 


ELECTED    SENATOR.  539 

the  acquisition  of  Louisiana,  which  was  bitterly  opposed  by  the  federalists. 
The  question  of  section  as  a'matter  of  weight  and  power  was  involved.  No 
one  in  public  life  then  discussed  the  moral  aspects  of  slavery.  Mr.  Adams  was 
ahtays  in  favor  of  the  acquisition  of  land,  and  advocated  the  purchase  and 
treaty,  though  denying  some  of  the  constitutional  propositions  involved.  In 
the  grave  matter  of  the  impeachment  of  the  ill-tempered,  ill-mannered  Judge 
Chase,  he  was  enabled  to  vote  with  his  party  friends  for  an  acquittal. 

The  period  of  Mr.  Adams'  service  in  the  Senate  covered  some  years  of 
the  sad  history  of  the  part  France  and  England  were  permitted  to  play  in 
the  affairs  of  the  republic.  Generally  the  republicans  held  with  France,— 
would  have  shaped  the  national  policy  to  favor  her.  The  federalists  sided 
with  her  great  rival.  Their  position,  as  a  party,  in  opposition  to  the  admin 
istration,  logically  made  them  the  allies  of  Great  Britain.  For  four  years 
Mr.  Adams  was  able  to  act  mainly  with  his  part}'.  Questions  arose  on 
which  he  was  obliged  to  sever  from  them.  Under  Washington  we  barely 
escaped  alliance  with  France;  under  Adams  we  were  nearly  precipitated 
into  a  war  with  her.  In  Mr.  Jefferson's  second  term  France  was  evidently 
in  the  ascendant  in  American  councils  in  the  mortal  struggle  with  her  old 
enemy.  Certainly  the  French  part}",  in  the  United  States,  was  in  posses 
sion  of  every  branch  of  the  national  government.  The  war  which  it  finally 
declared,  in  1812,  against  Great  Britain,  was,  on  the  whole,  disastrous. 
What  would  it  have  been  in  1806?  The  naval  supremacy  of  that  power 
enabled  her  to  enforce  new  and  unjust  restrictions  upon  the  rights  of  neu 
tral  ships,  aimed  at  the  swelling  commerce  of  the  United  States,  which  was 
almost  the  only  neutral  power.  Mr.  Adams  was  by  nature  a  warrior.  His 
pride  would  never  permit  him  to  submit  to  insult,  much  less  to  wrong.  In 
February,  1806,  he  brought  forward  his  resolutions  condemnatory  of  the 
unjust  measures  of  Great  Britain,  which  were  passed  by  the  republicans. 
Curiously  enough,  the  federalists,  whose  ships  England  captured,  were  less 
incensed  against  her  than  the}'  were  against  France,  charging  the  latter 
with  being  the  real  cause  of  their  losses.  The  non-importation  act  of  April 
following,  aimed  directly  at  England,  was  also  supported  by  him,  in  the 
face  of  the  fierce  opposition  of  the  federalists.  Britain  retorted  by  declar 
ing  the  whole  coast  of  Europe  blockaded.  This  blow,  of  course,  was 
directed  at  Napoleon,  who,  in  reply,  declared  the  British  islands  to  be  under 
blockade.  The  English  then  forbade  all  trade,  by  neutrals,  with  any  of  her 
enemies,  and  followed,  a  few  months  later,  with  the  famous  order  in  council, 
declaring  any  neutral  vessel  bound  to  any  port  closed  tg  her,  liable  to  cap 
ture.  To  this  Napoleon  replied  with  his  famous  Milan  decree,  that  city 
then  being  his  headquarters.  This  put  the  ships  and  commerce  of  the 
United  States  substantially  in  the  position  they  would  have  occupied  had 
both  Great  Britain  and  France  declared  war  against  the  United  States.  Inci 
dent  to  an  enforcement  of  these  British  orders,  was  the  right  of  search 


54O  JOHN    OUIXCY    ADAMS. 

During  all  these  years  England  had  habitually  searched  American  vessels 
for  her  sailors,  and  impressed  many  American-born  seamen,  and  compelled 
them  to  serve  on  her  war-ships.  Whoever  studies  the  history  of  these  years 
of  abasement,  will  feel  that  a  disastrous  war  was  preferable  to  submission. 
Then  followed  the  affair  of  the  ill-fated  Chesapeake,  in  Hampton  Roads.  An 
American  frigate,  after  a  feeble  resistance,  surrendered  to  a  British  fifty-gun 
ship,  the  Leopard.  There  were  killed  three,  and  wounded  sixteen  of  her 
crew;  four  sailors  were  impressed.  These  were  carried  to  Halifax.  One 
was  hanged  for  desertion,  one  died  in  prison,  and,  five  years  later,  two  were 
returned  to  the  Chesapeake,  in  Boston  harbor.  Berkeley,  the  commander  of 
the  Leopard,  received  the  usual  English  punishment  for  such  outrage — he 
was  promoted.  This  affair  fully  aroused  the  fiery  Adams  spirit,  and  in  the 
public  meetings  of  republicans,  and  of  the  more  tardy  federalists,  John 
Quincy  Adams  denounced  it  and  the  aggressors  in  becoming  terms. 

Jefferson  was  not  the  man  for  the  troublous  times  in  which  he  was 
called  upon  to  serve.  His  philosophy,  his  idylic  policy,  his  flotillas  of  gun 
boats,  known  by  their  numbers,  were  far  short  of  the  demands  of  the  occa 
sion.  They  were  the  diversion  of  his  enemies,  and  receive  little  respect 
from  history.  The  non-importation  act  failed  ;  aggressions  increased. 

At  the  extra  session  of  October,  1807,  the  administration  brought  for 
ward  its  proposed  embargo,  forbidding  American  ships  leaving  the  home 
ports  after  a  certain  day.  Whatever  may  now  be  thought  of  the  wisdom  of 
this  measure,  it  was  a  manly  and  spirited  blow — a  war  measure.  Mr.  Adams 
not  only  voted  for  it,  but  was  on  the  committee  that  reported  it.  This 
was  the  end  of  all  possible  connection  betwreen  him  and  the  federalists. 
They  came  about  him  like  a  pack  of  infuriated  wolves.  They  were  learned 
and  ingenious  in  the  arts  of  detraction,  denunciation,  and  abuse;  and 
exhausted  their  ability  and  resources  upon  him.  Mr.  Pickering  wrote  a 
denunciatory  letter  to  the  governor  of  Massachusetts,  which  he  asked  to 
have  laid  before  the  legislature.  Adams  was  charged  with  supporting  the 
measure  for  the  purpose  of  securing  a  re-election  to  the  Senate.  Following 
the  usage  of  the  state,  the  election  would  be  made  by  the  legislature  next 
after  the  passage  of  the  obnoxious  act.  At  the  time  of  Mr.  Adams' 
offense,  the  federalists  were  a  majority  in  that  body.  Mr.  Adams'  time 
was  to  expire  after  the  election  of  a  new  legislature.  His  enemies  precipi 
tated  the  election,  and  made  choice  of  one  Lloyd,  of  Boston,  to  succeed 
him,  the  senate  voting  twenty-one  for  Lloyd  to  seventeen  for  Adams; 
and  the  house  two  hundred  and  forty-eight  to  two  hundred  and  thirteen. 
Though  he  had  a  year  of  unexpired  term,  Mr.  Adams  at  once  resigned — 
an  example  of  pride  and  spirit,  lost  on  these  later  times  and  generations  of 
mere  place  holders.  To  Mr.  Pickering's  letter,  though  withheld  from  the 
legislature,  Mr.  Adams  replied  in  an  able  expose  of  the  whole  situation,  and 
charged  the  Hamiltonians,  the  leaders  of  which  constituted  the 


ACCEPTS    A    FOREIGN    APPOINTMENT.  54! 

famous   "Essex  junto,"  with  laboring  to  reduce  the  republic  to  a  condition 
of  colonial  vassalage  to  England. 

However  mistaken  in  some  of  their  measures,  the  republicans  were 
then  the  party  of  the  country,  and  the  place  of  the  young  Adams  was  with 
them,  and  he  took  it,  leaving  a  moribund  party,  to  a  fate  it  was  only  worthy. 
It  ir-  base  gratuitously  to  ascribe  noble  actions  to  unworthy  motives. 

He  was  again  a  private  citizen,  and  turned  his  attention  to  the  law. 
He  was  already  professor  of  rhetoric  at  Harvard;  a  course  of  his  lectures 
was  published,  but  have  no  interest  here.  The  winter  following  his  resig 
nation  he  visited  Washington,  where,  in  an  interview  with  President  Jeffer 
son,  he  made  a  charge  of  treasonable  designs  against  some  of  the  federalist 
leaders — charges  repeated  by  him  in  an  elaborate  review  of  the  now  for 
gotten  works  of  the  forgotten  Fisher  Ames,  published  in  the  Boston  Patriot. 
Tlvi  proof  of  the  charge  was  never  very  satisfactory.  The  charge  was 
huitful  to  the  men — its  memory  was  revived  later. 

In  July,  1808,  the  republicans  of  his  congressional  district  tendered 
him  a  nomination  for  the  House  of  Representatives;  he  declined  it. 
Among  his  reasons  was  a  wish  not  to  endanger  the  success  of  his  friend 
Joeiah  Quincy,  federalist  though  he  was. 

As  early  as  1805,  when  his  general  adherence  to  the  federal  party  was 
firm,  he  was  approached  with  the  offer  of  a  foreign  mission,  which  he  did 
net  favor.  In  March,  1809,  President  Madison  sent  his  name  to  the  Senate 
as  minister  to  Russia,  where  the  United  States  had  never  had  a  represen 
tative,  although  the  Emperor  Alexander  had  expressed  a  wish  to  exchange 
ministers  with  the  United  States.  The  Senate  met  it  with  a  "resolve  that 
it  was  inexpedient."  On  the  26th  of  June  following,  the  nomination  was 
renewed,  with  a  message.  It  was  at  once  confirmed  by  a  vote  of  nineteen 
to  seven.  \Ye  are  told  that  the  elder  Adams  looked  upon  this  mission  as 
an  exile  of  his  son,  brought  about  by  the  Virginia  republican  leaders, 
who  wished  the  absence  of  a  dangerous  rival.  That  the  thought  of  going 
out  of  the  country  was  not  unpleasant  to  the  son  is  apparent.  Pending  his 
going  he  was  nominated  and  confirmed  a  justice  of  the  supreme  court 
of  the  United  States,  which,  against  the  earnest  wish  of  his  father,  he 
declined.  Undoubtedly  his  going  was  the  part  of  wisdom. 

August  5,  1809,  Mr.  Adams  embarked  on  his  last  voyage  to  Europe, 
for  an  absence  of  eight  years.  Like  most  of  the  enterprises  of  Mr.  Adams 
the  voyage  was  stormy  and  dangerous.  He  reached  St.  Petersburg  Octo 
ber  23d,  following. 

In  Europe  the  year  1809  saw  Wellesley  making  head  against  Napoleon's 
generals  in  Spain,  Napoleon  himself  being  in  the  ascendant  everywhere 
else.  He  had  that  year  fought  the  battles  of  Eckmuhl,  Aspern,  and 
Essling;  had  annexed  the  Papal  dominions,  and  held  the  pope  a  virtual  pris- 


542  JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS. 

oner  in  Paris  ;  was  in  alliance  with  Alexander,  and  meditating  the   divorce 
of  Josephine. 

Adams  was  received  with  marked  kindness  at  St.  Petersburg,  where  he 
became  quite  a  favorite  both  with  the  emperor  and  his  foreign  minister, 
Romanzof.  There  was  a  series  of  court  presentations,  balls,  fetes,  dinners, 
and  much  in  the  way  of  social  gayety  and  pageant.  Everywhere  Mr. 
Adams  was  a  welcome  guest.  Though  not  distinguished  for  personal  grace, 
and  social  tact,  he  was  an  admirable  American  minister.  Educated  in 
Europe,  speaking  all  the  court  languages,  having  had  much  association  with 
distinguished  men  there,  plain,  simple,  dignified,  prudent,  sincere,  well 
informed,  few  Americans  were  so  well  equipped  to  fill,  successfully,  the  role 
of  minister.  Officially  there  could  be  little  for  him  to  do.  Americans  had 
little  intercourse  with  the  Russians,  and  they  could  do  little  for  us  of  good 
or  ill.  Alexander  was  very  kind  to  Americans,  and  beyond  watching  the 
wrangles  of  the  other  diplomats  for  precedence  at  court,  our  minister  had 
little  on  his  hands  but  to  cultivate  the  amiable  temper  and  disposition  of  the 
czar.  Meantime  the  mighty  struggles  provoked  and  carried  on  by  Napoleon 
more  and  more  astonished  the  civilized  world,  and  spread  terror  through 
Europe.  The  two  emperors  quarreled.  Alexander  again  armed,  this  time 
in  the  defense  of  his  empire.  Napoleon  came,  overthrew  the  Russian 
armies,  captured  Moscow — the  "holy  city" — sat  on  the  throne  of  the 
Romanofs,  was  burnt  out,  frozen  out,  and  fled,  only  not  a  fugitive,  toward 
his  own  distant  France,  across  a  country  that  arose  in  arms  against  him.  At 
St.  Petersburg  Mr.  Adams  saw  the  terror  and  anxiety  of  the  Russians  at  the 
invader's  approach  ;  their  doubt  and  uncertainty  ere  the  tide  turned,  and 
witnessed  their  triumph  and  exultation  as  it  rolled  from  them  and  died 
away  in  the  distance.  Meantime  the  chronic  troubles  of  all  the  later  years, 
between  the  United  States  and  Great  Britain,  resulted  in  war,  declared  by 
the  American  Congress.  In  the  early  part  of  it,  the  Emperor  Alexander,  at 
Mr.  Adams'  request,  offered  his  good  services  as  mediator  between  the  bel 
ligerents.  The  United  States,  acting  upon  his  intercession,  dispatched 
Messrs.  Gallatin  and  Bayard  to  act  as  commissioners  with  Mr.  Adams,  to 
negotiate  a  treaty  of  peace.  They  proceeded  at  once  to  the  Russian 
capital.  The  intercession  was  rejected  by  Great  Britain,  the  United  States 
placed  in  an  unpleasant  position,  and  her  commissioners  in  a  very  awk 
ward  one.  However,  a  period  was  soon  reached  in  the  hostilities,  where 
neither  party  cared  further  to  wage  the  war. 

England  really  had  nothing  to  gain  by  the  continuance  of  the  war. 
Her  fighting  blood  had  been  at  white  heat  during  the  years  of  her  gigantic 
struggle  with  Napoleon.  She  was  used  to  war,  but  her  people  were  in  a 
condition  of  half  barbarism  and  destitution  in  consequence.  America  was 
distant,  and  the  war  expensive.  Great  Britain  now  proposed  to  send 
commissioners  to  Gottingen,  there  to  meet  commissioners  from  the  United 


FOREIGN    SERVICE.  543 

States.  The  place  was  changed  to  Ghent,  and  the  United  States  renewed 
the  powers  of  Messrs.  Adams,  Bayard,  and  Gallatin,  added  Henry  Clay,  and 
Jonathan  Russell,  our  minister  to  Sweden.  Great  Britain  appointed  Lord 
Gambier,  a  wrong  headed  old  admiral  ;  Dr.  Adams,  a  writer  upon  public 
law  ;  and  Mr.  Goulborn,  an  under  secretary  of  state.  The  commission 
ers  assembled  at  Ghent  August  7,  1814.  Four  months  of  wrangling  disputa 
tion,  of  ill  blood,  argument,  propositions  and  counter  propositions,  followed 
ere  the  work  was  accomplished.  If  the  Englishmen  were  pugnacious,  over 
bearing,  and  at  times  insufferable,  the  Americans  were  as  discordant  a  band 
as  ever  undertook  to  secure  peace  for  a  bleeding  country.  Certainly  peace 
never  was  evolved  of  eight  more  incongruous  men.  A  strong  and  graphic 
account  of  the  whole  is  found  in  Mr.  Adams'  diary,  with  life-like,  but  not 
flattering,  pictures  of  his  associates  and  opponents.  From  his  nature  he 
could  have  few  friends  ;  his  manner  and  temperament  precluded  intimacies, 
and  the  depressing  view  which  he  seemed  honestly  to  entertain  for  all  other 
men,  kept  him,  as  one  would  suppose,  from  desiring  intimacies  with  them. 
Matters  were  finally  arranged  December  24,  1814,  and  though  the  treaty 
left  the  cause  of  war  without  so  much  as  a  mention — destruction  of  our 
commerce,  the  freedom  of  the  seas,  the  personal  rights  of  American  seamen 
—yet  the  conclusion  of  the  treaty  was  most  fortunate.  The  war  had,  indeed, 
itself  settled  those  questions  forever,  and  no  treaty  stipulation  was  needed 
to  secure  American  rights  as  to  them.  It  was  a  credit  to  the  American 
negotiators  that  they  succeeded  in  agreeing  among  themselves.  That  on  the 
whole  they  were  too  much  for  English  envoys,  and  secured  the  advantage  to 
their  country,  was  declared  by  Englishmen.  The  Marquis  of  Wellesley 
applauded  them  in  the  house  of  lords  ;  the  Times  published  a  heavy  leader 
denouncing  the  treaty  and  the  imbecility  of  the  English  commission. 

After  the  completion  of  his  labors  at  Ghent,  Mr.  Adams  visited  Paris, 
and  was  there  on  the  return  of  Napoleon  from  Elba,  and  the  beginning  of 
his  famous  hundred  days.  There  he  was  joined  by  his  family,  who  made 
the  then  long  and  perilous  journey  from  St.  Petersburg.  From  Paris  they 
proceeded  to  London,  where  Mr.  Adams  found  awaiting  him  with  the  Bar 
ings,  his  commision  as  envoy  plenipotentiary,  etc.,  to  Great  Britain.  Here 
he  also  found  his  former  colleagues,  Messrs.  Clay  and  Gallatin,  engaged  with 
their  former  antagonists,  the  British  commission,  in  settling  the  terms  of 
a  treaty  of  commerce  between  the  late  belligerent  countries.  Mr.  Adams 
aided  in  closing  it.  Messrs.  Clay  and  Gallatin  left,  and  Mr.  Adams  entered 
upon  his  new  duties;  he  was  now  at  the  head  of  the  American  diplomatic 
service. 

The  close  of  the  war  of  1812,  with  the  general  pacification  of  Europe, 
put  an  end  to  the  long  and  troublous  period  of  American  political  history, 
under  the  Constitution.  Old  parties  had  substantially  disappeared,  to  be 
followed  by  a  few  years  of  personal  politics,  the  formation  of  new  parties, 


544  JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS. 

the  unfolding  of  domestic  policies ;  and  the  building  up  of  American 
industries.  There  was  little  for  Mr.  Adams  to  do  in  England.  It  was  the 
period  of  the  Castlereagh  and  Canning  ministry.  On  the  I5th  of  June, 
1817,  Mr.  Adams  sailed  for  the  United  States,  closing  the  longest  and  most 
brilliant  career  in  the  foreign  service  of  America,  and  taking  final  leave  of 
Europe,  where  quite  half  of  his  life  since  his  twelfth  year,  had  been  passed. 
Mr.  Monroe  had  succeeded  Mr.  Madison,  and  Mr.  Adams  came  home  to 
take  the  head  of  his  cabinet,  as  secretary  of  state.  He  was  then  fifty  years 
old ;  nearly  all  his  years  spent  in  politics  and  public  life,  with  a  larger  and 
more  varied  acquaintance  with  foreign  nations,  peoples,  and  men,  than 
any  of  his  countrymen.  A  hard  student  of  political  history,  few  men 
have  ever  been  called  to  that  position,  so  well  equipped  to  discharge  its 
important  duties.  The  department  of  state,  then  and  fora  great  many  years 
after,  included  the  interior,  as  well  as  the  foreign  affairs  of  the  nation. 
It  is  said  that  General  Jackson  advised  the  new  President  to  appoint  Mr. 
Adams.  The  appointment  certainly  secured  a  valuable  friend  in  the  cabinet 
to  the  general,  who  was  yet  to  run  his  career  in  Florida,  of  such  bold  expedi 
ents,  so  useful  to  the  country,  and  so  nearly  disastrous  to  himself  personally. 
With  Mr.  Adams  was  associated  William  H.  Crawford,  secretary  of  treas 
ury  ;  John  C.  Calhoun,  secretary  of  war ;  Benjamin  W.  Crowninshield  in 
the  navy,  and  William  Wirt,  attorney-general. 

The  transition  from  the  gay  and  gorgeous  capitals  of  Europe  to  the 
straggling,  muddy  village  of  Washington  was  striking,  and  Mr.  Adams  did 
not  find  it  greatly  improved  in  the  years  of  his  absence.  The  capital  and 
executive  mansion  had  been  burnt,  and  though  the  latter  was  restored,  the 
new  capital  was  not  built.  The  diary  sketches  the  social  events  of  the 
capital,  which  contrast  with  the  description  of  life  in  the  European  capitals, 
by  the  same  hand.  Frequent  teas,  dull  and  solemn  receptions.  It  was  the 
day  of  free  language,  free  drinking,  and  much  play.  It  was  said  that  Mr. 
Clay  lost  eight  thousand  dollars  at  a  single  sitting,  which  it  was  thought  rested 
heavily  upon  him.  It  was  still  the  day  of  duels,  and  many  wrere  yet  to  be 
fought  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  federal  capital.  In  government  affairs 
the  most  perplexing  fell  upon  the  department  of  state.  Domestic  strifes 
had  ceased  and  were  healing.  Foreign  troubles  were  grave  and  perplexing. 
War  with  Spain  was  imminent.  Her  South  American  and  Mexican  colo 
nies  were  in  revolt,  and  a  state  of  chronic  war  existed.  The  privateers  of 
Baltimore  gave  the  government,  as  they  did  the  Spanish  merchantmen,  great 
annoyance.  This  led  to  the  first  neutrality  act,  which  rested  upon  a  prin 
ciple  since  accepted  and  acted  upon,  not  only  by  this  country,  but  by 
Great  Britain.  The  Holy  Alliance,  that  had  re-constructed  Europe  in  the 
interest  of  the  old  dynasties,  threatened  to  restore  the  power  of  Spain  over 
her  colonies,  while  the  passionate  Clay  was  demanding  in  the  House  of 


IN    PRESIDENT    MONROE'S    CABINET,  545 

Representatives  that  the  United  States  should  take  steps  looking  to  a 
recognition  of  their  independence. 

The  country  had  other  causes  of  disquietude  with  Spain.  The  boun 
daries  of  Louisiana  had  never  been  determined.  General  Jackson  had  been 
pursuing  Indians  on  Spanish  territory.  Don  Onis,  the  Spanish  min 
ister,  was  an  able  diplomat,  but  was  quite  as  anxious  as  was  the  Ameri 
can  secretary  of  state,  to  close  up  the  differences.  The  negotiations  were 
conducted  at  Washington,  but  as  Mr.  Adams  found,  there  were  great  diffi 
culties  to  be  overcome ;  nor  were  the  difficulties  all  on  the  side  of  the 
Americans.  The  career  of  Jackson  in  Florida  not  only  exposed  the  weak 
ness  of  Spain,  it  greatly  excited  her  pride.  Mr.  Monroe  was  very  anxious 
to  arrange  a  treat}'.  Mr.  Adams,  with  his  usual  courage  and  confident  will, 
assumed  the  responsibility,  and  took  the  whole  burden.  He  rejected  the 
offered  mediation  of  Great  Britain.  He  found  the  services  of  the  French 
minister,  Mons.  de  Xeuville,  very  useful,  and  availed  himself  of  them. 

Mr.  Adams'  record  of  his  own  labors  is  exceedingly  interesting.  They 
ended  in  this  matter  with  the  acquisition  of  Florida.  The  United  States 
secured  a  much  coveted  outlet  to  the  "  Southern  Sea,"  as  the  Pacific  was  still 
called.  This  important  treaty  was  signed  February  22,  1819.  Mr.  Adams 
considered  it  one  of  the  greatest  labors  of  his  life,  though  the  press,  stimulated 
as  he  thought  by  Mr.  Clay,  condemned  the  boundary.  Mr.  Adams'  satisfaction 
was,  however,  quite  destroyed  by  the  subsequent  discovery  that  immense 
grants  of  land  by  the  king  of  Spain,  conveying  lands  supposed  to  be 
acquired  by  the  annulling  of  the  grants,  did  not  cancel  them,  owing  to  an 
error  in  their  supposed  dates.  This  led  to  grave  complications,  the  result 
of  which  were  not  of  easy  forecast,  when  happily  the  Spanish  cortes  refused 
to  ratify  the  treaty  and  the  king  dispatched  a  new  minister,  General  Yives, 
with  whom,  happily,  a  new  treaty  was  concluded  and  mutually  ratified, 
though  opposed  by  Mr.  Clay,  who  managed  to  have  his  way  in  the  South 
American  republics. 

Toward  the  close  of  Monroe's  first  term,  came  on  the  first  great  strug 
gle  over  slavery,  in  the  famous  Missouri  compromise  measure.  The  Pres 
ident  asked  his  cabinet  whether  Congress  could  exclude  slavery  from  the 
territories — "forever."  The  cabinet  was  unanimous  as  to  the  first  part. 
Mr.  Adams  alone  held  thatyWrrr,  as  thus  used,  was  perpetual.  It  stamped 
the  quality  of  freedom  on  the  soil,  while  Calhoun,  Crawford,  and  the  rest, 
held  that  it  was  limited  to  the  territorial  period.  Among  these  was  Mr. 
Thompson,  of  New  York,  afterward  one  of  the  judges  of  the  supieme  court 
of  the  United  States.  On  the  day  of  the  signing  of  the  Spanish  treaty,  Mr. 
Adams  concluded  his  laborious  report  upon  weights  and  measures,  upon 
which  he  had  been  employed  with  his  usual  fidelity  for  the  preceding  four 
years.  A  drier,  and  in  many  respects,  a  more  uninteresting  subject  cannot 
be  named,  though  in  itself  of  great  importance.  The  subject  embraces  length, 


546  JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS. 

capacity,  ana  weight.  His  report  covered  the  history  of  weights  arid  meas 
ures  of  all  nations,  with  a  synopsis  of  their  laws.  He  ranked  this  labor  in 
importance  with  the  Spanish  treaty.  Nothing  ever  really  came  of  it;  nor 
did  his  countrymen  share  his  estimate  of  it* 

Mr.  Adams  was  never  a  victim  of  undue  sensitiveness  regarding  the 
opinions  of  others.  His  pride,  independence,  and  strong  character  placed  him 
beyond  it.  He  had  been  much  in  Europe;  understood  the  policies  of  men 
and  nations ;  had  measured  himself  too  often  with  foreign  diplomats  ;  was 
too  well  assured  of  the  rapidly  growing  greatness  of  his  own  country.  He 
seriously  regarded  the  western  continent  as  the  just  inheritance  of  the 
United  States.  When,  at  Ghent,  the  English  commissioners  proposed  to 
have  the  United  States  cede  a  part  of  Maine  to  give  them  better  access  to 
Quebec,  he  proposed  to  the  American  commissioners  a  counter  proposition 
for  the  cession  of  Canada  to  the  United  States,  as  the  best  and  ultimately 
inevitable  way  out  of  the  inconvenience.  Though  he  opposed  the  treaty  for 
the  purchase  of  Louisiana  because  of  lack  of  constitutional  power,  a  view 
shared  by  Mr.  Jefferson  himself,  he  deemed  its  acquisition  of  the  utmost 
importance ;  and  later,  himself  secured  Florida.  He  was  always  in  favor 
of  the  acquisition  of  Cuba,  as  are  many  enlightened  Americans.  Our 
absorption  of  the  continent,  he  declared  to  be  the  law  of  nature.  He  said 
to  the  Russian  minister,  July  23,  1823,  "that  we  should  contest  the  rights 
of  Russia  to  any  territorial  establishment  on  the  continent,  and  we  should 
distinctly  assume  the  principle  that  the  American  continents  are  no  longer 
subjects  of  European  colonization."  This  is  something  more  than  the  germ 
of  the  famous  Monroe  doctrine,  and  was  undoubtedly  its  first  annunciation. 
The  doctrine  was  formally  announced  in  the  President's  annual  message  to 
Congress,  December  2d  of.  that  year. 

The  time  of  Monroe's  administration  has  been  called  the  "era  of  grod 
feeling."  If  by  this  is  understood  the  absence  of  party  strife  through 
out  this  country,  it  is  quite  accurate.  The  federalists  as  a  party  had  disap 
peared  from  every  state,  except  Massachusetts.  New  parties  had  not 
appeared,  were  not  to  appear  for  years.  The  party  which  elected  Mr. 
Monroe,  was  known  as  the  national  republican  ;  often  called  democrats, 
though  that  did  not  become  the  party  name  until  the  rise  of  the  whig 
party.  The  intervening  time  was  a  period  of  personal  politics.  While 
there  was,  broadly  speaking,  political  peace,  there  was  not  always  har 
mony  in  the  cabinet,  where  was  finally  developed  three  presidential 
candidates,  one  of  whom,  Mr.  Crawford,  was,  more  than  once,  suspected 
of  laboring  to  embarrass  or  defeat  the  administration  and  to  blight  the  pros 
pects  of  Mr.  Adams  as  its  head.  There  had  sprung  up  an  implied  rule,  that 
the  secretary  of  state  was  specially  in  the  line  of  succession.  Of  this  Mr. 

*See  appendix  fourth  volume  Johnson's  Cyclopedia,  Weights  and  Measures,  for  a  statement  of  the 
whole  subject  and  review  of  Mr.  Adams'  report. 


IN    PRESIDENT    MADISON'S    CABINET.  547 

Adams  had  the  advantage,  though  he  did  and  would  do  nothing  in  office  to 
strengthen  himself.  Crawford  seems  to  have  been  as  small  a  pattern 
of  man  as  has  appeared  in  American  history,  who  succeeded  in  gaining  so 
high  a  position.  Certainly  Mr.  Adams  and  Mr.  Calhoun  were  unanimous 
in  this  estimate.  He  was  a  perfect  master  of  the  arts  of  intrigue,  and  per 
sonal  management,  to  advance  himself  and  depress  an  opponent.  He  had 
secured  the  nomination  of  the  Congressional  caucus,  which,  doubtless,  was 
an  advantage.  That  was  a  method  of  naming  a  candidate,  then  in  vogue, 
though  not  at  that  time  useful.  Mr.  Adams,  Mr.  Crawford,  and  for  a  time 
Mr.  Calhoun  were  candidates.  Out  of  the  cabinet  was  Mr.  Clay,  and  Gen 
eral  Jackson.  Mr.  Adams  was  the  only  supporter  of  the  general  in  the 
Monroe  cabinet.  He  defended  him  throughout,  and  later,  Jackson 
rewarded  him  by  believing  Mr.  Buchanan's  tale,  of  collusion  between  Mr. 
Adams  and  Mr  Clay,  whereby  the  first  became  President,  and  the  other 
secretary  of  state. 

To  the  average  man  of  to-day  the  idea  that  great  men  ever  became  can 
didates  for  the  presidency  without  the  organized  aid  of  a  party,  must  seem 
absurd.  There  were  then  no  organized  parties;  never  had  been,  as  they  now 
exist.  Men  were  supported  for  their  supposed  personal  merits — their  repu 
tation  for  ability,  and  what  they  had  already  achieved.  The  arts  of  laudation 
and  detraction  were  as  well  understood  then  as  now,  and  used  as  unspar 
ingly  ;  but  the  candidate  was  limited  to  the  use  of  such  means  as  he  and  his 
personal  following  could  command.  Mr.  Jefferson  was  understood  to  favor 
Mr.  Crawford.  Mr.  Clay,  with  his  popular  manners,  great  magnetism,  his 
eloquence  and  address,  the  chivalry  of  his  character,  seemed  a  really 
stronger  candidate  than  the  result  proved.  And  Mr.  Adams  imputed  to 
him  opposition  to  the  administration  to  embarrass  his  candidacy.  In  time, 
however,  Mr.  Clay's  strong  point — a  recognition  of  the  South  American 
republics — was  out  of  the  way,  by  the  action  of  the  President.  Good 
feeling  \vas  restored  between  them.  Evidently,  as  his  diary  shows,  Mr. 
Crawford  was  the  pillow  on  which  Mr.  .Adams  reposed  his  animosities. 
He  charges  him  with  intervening  to  secure  advantages  to  the  other  party, 
while  the  state  department  was  negotiating  treaties.  He  created  difficulties 
in  the  war  office,  to  embarrass  Mr.  Calhoun,  who  fully  shared  Mr.  Adams' 
view  of  him. 

During  the  struggles  for  the  presidency,  Mr.  Adams  concluded  a  treaty 
with  Great  Britain,  represented  by  Mr.  Stratford  Canning — later  known  as 
Lord  Stratford  de  Rcdclyffe,  a  famous  British  ambassador  at  Constantinople 
for  many  years.  The  two  men  were  not  unlike,  and  had  discussions  as  to 
the  relative  claims  of  the  two  countries  to  the  region  about  the  mouth  of 
the  Columbia  river.  They  often  parted  in  anger,  which  was  many  days  in 
cooling.  Mr.  Adams  was  the  older,  and  cooler.  He  always  displayed 
more  tact,  as  a  diplomat,  than  in  any  other  of  the  high  positions  of  his  life, 


548  JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS. 

Mr.  Canning  more  than  once  complained  of  the  tone  01  the  debates  in 
Congress.  Mr.  Adams  told  him  that  he  would  not  permit  that.  He 
probably  interested  Englishmen  more  than  any  of  his  countrymen,  and 
finally  had  his  way  with  Mr.  Canning,  as  with  most  Englishmen  with  whom 
he.,  came  in  contact. 


ELECTED    PRESIDENT. 


CHAPTER    III. 
CHOSEN  PRESIDENT  -HIS  ADMINISTRATION-RE-ELECTION  DEFEATED. 

AS  Mr.  Monroe's  term  drew  to  a  close,  the  small  interest  in  public  affairs 
was  lost  sight  of  in  the  excitement  -occasioned  by  the  presidential 
election.  General  Jackson,  with  the  odium  of  the  "  coffin  hand-bills,"  and 
the  hanging  of  the  Englishmen,  Arbuthnot  and  Ambrister  in  Elorida,  devel 
oped  more  strength  than  was  anticipated.  He  certainly  ran  on  a  lower  and 
more  vulgar,  not  to  say  baser  level,  than  an}-  other  candidate  for  the  presi 
dency  in  American  history.  Mr.  Adams  to  the  last  refused  to  employ  any 
means  to  bring  himself  forward.  He  admitted  that  defeat  would  be  a 
source  of  the  greatest  mortification.  A  full  record  of  his  position  and  feel 
ings  is  found  in  the  diary.  With  the  slow  methods  of  communication  of 
those  days,  it  was  not  certainly  known  until  the  24th  of  December,  1824, 
that  the  people  had  failed  to  elect.  Jackson  led  with  ninety-nine  votes, 
Adams  had  eighty-four,  Crawford  forty-one,  Clay  thirty-seven.  Mr.  Adams' 
strength  was  centered  in  New  York  and  New  England;  Maryland  gave  him 
three,  Louisiana  two,  Delaware  and  Illinois  one  each.  At  that  election 
Calhoun  received  one  hundred  and  eighty-two  votes  and  was  elected  Vice 
President. 

By  the  smallness  of  his  vote,  Mr.  Clay  was  excluded  from  the  election 
in  the  House  of  Representatives,  and  was  obliged  to  choose  between 
Jackson  and  Adams.  General  Jackson  could  expect  nothing  from  Mr. 
Clay,  who  had  on  more  than  one  occasion  expressed  emphatic  opinions 
adverse  to  him,  not  to  be  forgotten  or  forgiven.  Nor  was  there  anything1  in 
Jackson's  large  popular  vote  that  should  control  his  action.  He  had  a  plu 
rality,  but  not  a  majority.  The  election  took  place  in  the  House  of  Repre 
sentatives,  January  9,  1825.  Daniel  Webster  and  John  Randolph  were  tel 
lers.  The  House  voted  by  states,  and  the  tellers  declared  that  John  Ouincy 
Adams  had  thirteen  votes,  Andrew  Jackson  seven,  William  H.  Crawford 
>oar;  and  the  speaker  of  the  House  solemnly  declared  that  John  Ouincy 
Adams  was  elected  President  of  the  United  States. 


55O  JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS, 

To  the  committee  which  announced  the  result  to  him,  Mr.  Adams 
declared  that  if  there  was  a  probability  that  the  people  could  make  an  elec 
tion,  he  should  feel  it  his  duty  to  decline  the  high  honor,  in  which  he  was 
doubtless  sincere.  Mr.  Seward,  in  his  biography  of  John  Quincy  Adams,  so 
declares.  No  one  knew  better  than  he,  that  there  was  no  method  by  which 
this  election  could  be  again  remitted  to  the  people.  Of  the  defeated  men, 
Mr.  Clay  remained  aspiring  and  hopeful.  General  Jackson  was  angry  and 
revengeful,  and  entered  upon  a  new  canvass.  It  was  the  end  of  Mr.  Craw 
ford's  presidential  aspirations.  If  Mr.  Clay  chose  wisely  as  to  the  presi 
dency,  no  one  can  question  the  sagacity  and  wisdom  of  the  new  President, 
who  placed  Mr.  Clay  at  the  head  of  his  cabinet.  With  him  were  associated 
Richard  Rush,  secretary  of  the  treasury;  James  Barbour,  secretary  of  war; 
Samuel  L.  Southard,  secretary  of  the  navy,  and  William  Wirt,  attorney- 
general.  No  man  in  our  history,  except  Washington,  ever  reached  the 
place  unembarrassed  with  obligations,  and  promises  to  others.  No  admin 
istration,  not  even  Washington's,  was  more  pure.  No  one  was  more  unpop 
ular  in  the  country,  or  more  unfortunate  as  the  head  of  it.  Mr.  Adams 
was  a  Puritan  of  the  Puritans.  He  believed  that  even  virtue  should  appear 
unlovely,  and  his  work  in  his  high  office,  hard,  constant,  unremitting,  enlight 
ened,  and  always  patriotic,  had  none  of  the  personal  or  public  graces  to 
commend  him  or  it,  or  his  policy,  to  the  favor  of  his  countrymen.  He 
absolutely  refused  to  use  any  of  his  vast  power  to  change  or  control  any 
c  f  the  numerous  offices  within  his  gift  to  advance  the  general  interests  of 
his  administration,  though  the  success  of  an  administration  must  largely 
depend  on  the  public  estimate  of  it ;  while  the  prosperity  of  the  country 
must,  for  the  time,  depend  much  upon  the  success  of  the  power  which 
governs  it. 

He  found  the  custom  houses  filled  with  the  creatures  of  Mr.  Crawford, 
who  at  once  turned  to  Jackson,  yet  he  continued  them  in  office  ;  refused 
to  dismiss  any  officer,  who,  though  an  enemy  of  his,  otherwise  manifested 
personal  fitness  for  the  place.  He  began  by  the  appointment  of  Rufus 
King,  of  New  York,  a  federalist,  and  a  political  enemy,  to  the  English 
mission,  and  could  never  at  any  time  be  brought  to  permit  an  appointment 
to  be  made,  influenced  by  a  purpose  to  advance  the  interests  of  his  admin 
istration,  though  he  must  have  seen  the  success  of  that  administration,  and 
the  general  public  good,  were  largely  identical.  Upon  his  entrance  to  office 
he  maintained  every  man  in  place,  against  whom  no  specific  charge  was 
made;  and  this  was  the  practiced  rule  of  his  government.  It  was  an  ill- 
judged,  and  suicidal,  but  an  inflexible  rule  of  righteousness — self-righteous 
ness  it  may  be  called — and  rewarded  as  self-righteousness  is.  General  JacK- 
son  came  forward  at  the  inauguration  of  John  Quincy  Adams  as  President, 
and  warmly  congratulated  him.  There  was  no  man  in  America  who  had 
stood  so  courageously  by  the  general  as  had  Mr.  Adams.  This  was  the  last 


HIS    ADMINISTRATION.  551 

time  they  were  ever  to  join  hands.  Soon  after  Jackson  had  himself  nomi 
nated  for  the  presidency  by  the  legislature  of  Tennessee,  and  organized  an 
opposition  to  his  late  friend,  into  which  he  drew  most  of  the  elements  not 
favorable  to  Mr.  Adams  in  the  late  election,  with  a  large  circle  of  young 
federalists. 

The  story  of  the  coalition  of  Adams  and  Clay,  first  told  by  George 
Kremmer,  was  widely  circulated.  In  the  Senate,  the  eccentric  John  Ran 
dolph,  of  Virginia,  denounced  the  coalition  of  "the  Puritian  and  black-leg" 
in  a  speech  of  nine  hours.  The  Vice  President,  Mr.  Calhoun,  who  had 
adopted  the  singular  rule  that  a  senator  could  not  be  called  to  order  for 
words  however  unparliamentary,  indulged  the  Virginian,  who  proceeded  to 
such  lengths  that  the  secretary  of  state  challenged  him  to  mortal  combat. 
It  was  said  that  Mr.  Randolph  had  recently  been  in  attendance  upon  the 
death  bed  of  the  unfortunate  Decatur,  mortally  wounded  by  Barron  of 
Chesapeake  fame,  and  was  rather  inclined  to  an  affair  of  honor.  At  the 
meeting  Randolph  went  on  the  ground  in  a  huge  morning-gown.  Mr.  Clay's 
bullet  passed  through  it  without  touching  the  senator  ;  at  the  second  shot, 
Randolph  fired  into  the  air,  and  rushing  upon  Mr.  Clay,  forced  his  hand 
upon  him. 

The  charge  of  the  bargain  and  sale  was  largely  the  stock  in  trade  of 
the  Jackson  party,  which  then  assumed  the  name  of  democrats.  The  general 
had  said  in  a  party  of  friends,  that  the  charge  was  true,  and  that  he  could 
prove  it  by  a  member  of  Congress.  Mr.  Beverly,  of  that  party,  was 
imprudent  enough  to  permit  this  to  get  to  the  public.  This  led  to  a  call 
from  Mr.  Clay  for  the  member's  name,  when  General  Jackson  gave  the  name 
of  James  Buchanan.  Mr.  Buchanan  promptly  disclaimed,  and  said  the 
general  had  gravely  misunderstood  him.  Mr.  Buchanan  became  the  object 
of  contempt  on  the  part  both  of  Mr.  Clay  and  General  Jackson.  Most  of 
the  parties  implicated  in  this  scandalous  tale,  including  Kremmer  and 
Beverly,  wrote  contrite  letters  to  Mr.  Clay,  disclaiming,  or  admitting  and 
apologizing  for  their  part  in  it.  General  Jackson  remained  unconvinced. 
The  tale  was  too  useful,  and  had  too  much  vitality. 

Mr.  Benton  is  authority  for  the  saying,  that  no  administration  was 
ever  launched  in  the  face  of  more  difficulties.  The  powerful  minority  in 
the  House  became  a  large  majority  at  the  next  election,  and  the  vote  on 
the  confirmation  of  Mr.  Clay  indicated  that  the  south  as  a  section  would 
be  arrayed  against  it ;  indeed,  this  sectional  feeling  made  itself  manifest  in 
the  presidential  election.  Slavery  instinctively  felt  the  presence  of  its  great 
antagonist,  and  brought  on  the  contest.  There  was  to  be  a  congress,  at 
Panama,  of  delegates  from  the  South  American  republics,  and  the  United 
States  had  been  invited  to  take  part  in  it.  These  republics  had  abolished 
slavery.  In  his  first  message  the  President  said  he  had  accepted  the  invita 
tion  on  the  part  of  the  United  States,  and  should  commission  a  minister  to 


552  JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS. 

attend  it.  The  vehement  opposition  which  this  statement  provoked  is 
astonishing  at  this  later  day.  Mr.  Webster  came  to  the  aid  of  Mr.  Adams, 
who  ultimately  prevailed,  but  the  debate  consolidated  the  slaveholding  ele 
ment,  and  disclosed  to  the  President  the  underlying  ground  of  its  opposi 
tion.  Innocently  Mr.  Adams  struck  the  first  blow  in  the  great  war  to  which 
his  later  years  were  to  be  devoted.  As  stated,  the  election  of  1827 
resulted  in  the  overwhelming  triumph  of  the  Jackson  opposition.  The 
party  elected  a  speaker  of  the  House,  and  organized  the  committees,  with 
four  members  of  the  opposition,  and  three  administration  members.  It  was 
comparatively  a  period  of  political  quietude,  and  the  antagonism  of  the  two 
great  departments  of  the  government  wrought  less  mischief  than  might 
have  been  anticipated.  Mr.  VanBuren  now  came  forward  as  the  leader  and 
organizer  of  the  Jackson  forces.  As  a  political  strategist,  he  was  largely  in 
advance  of  any  of  his  countrymen  to  that  period  of  our  history.  No  effort 
was  made  to  meet  him  by  methods  similar  to  his  own.  The  administration 
compared  him  with  Aaron  Burr,  and  left  him  to  work  the  ruin  of  his  party 
in  his  own  time  and  way. 

The  opposition,  as  we  have  seen,  was  organized  in  advance  of  any 
measure  or  policy  of  the  administration.  It  did  not  care  to  test  and  try 
Mr.  Adams  on  the  merit  of  his  government.  The  opposition  was  purely 
personal — opposition  to  him  and  his  cabinet.  They  must  be  displaced,  were 
condemned  in  advance,  and  \vere  to  be  removed  at  the  first  opportunity. 
Any  means  that  would  aid  in  that  was  proper  and  legitimate,  no  other  thing 
was  worth  working  for ;  the  only  issue  made :  Shall  Mr.  Adams  or  Gen- 
cril  Jackson  be  elected  in  1828;  and  while  this  issue  was  forced  on  the  Pres 
ident,  in  his  removals  and  appointments  to  office,  against  the  earnest,  angry 
remonstrance  of  his  supporters,  he  persistently  ignored  the  issue  thus 
forced.  He  adopted  the  American  policy — a  protective  tariff,  and  a  general 
scheme  of  irternal  improvements.  This  was  offensive  to  Virginia  and  Vir 
ginia  politicians  generally.  He  could  not  be  expected  to  change  his  policy 
to  placate  Virginia.  He  was  only  asked  to  soften  its  expression,  that  it 
might  be  less  offensive,  This  he  refused  to  do,  not  only  insuring  his  own 
defeat  by  what  he  said  and  did,  but  making  it  more  decisive  by  his  manner. 
This  man,  who  met  the  commissioners  at  Ghent  with  tact  and  skill,  who 
was  too  much  for  the  strategy  of  Canning,  was  absolutely  tactless  at  the 
head  of  the  government.  His  idea  seemed  to  be  that  whatever  was  pleas 
ant  and  gracious  must  be  wrong,  and  he  was  careful  not  to  err  in  that  direc 
tion.  To  propitiate  was  a  vice  which  he  studiously  avoided.  He  squared 
his  conduct  and  his  management  of  public  affairs  by  the  passionless,  rigid 
rules  of  uprightness;  and  this  he  would  submit  to  the  judgment  of  his  coun 
trymen.  His  countrymen  did  him  justice,  but  it  came  too  late  to  save  him 
from  the  pain  and  mortification  of  defeat.  History  is  fast  settling  the 
account  between  him  and  his  successor,  not  the  least  of  whose  misfortunes 


HIS    ADMINISTRATION.  553 

is  that  his  administration  followed  so  directly  one  which  sharply  contrasts 
with  and  condemns  it.  The  cool  north  saw  and  appreciated  his  merit,  but 
that  alone  found  no  heart  in  the  day  of  battle.  It  kindled  no  enthusiasm, 
did  not  even  secure  the  organization,  the  earnest  labor,  and  persistent  effort, 
necessary  to  insure  his  re-election.  He  had  the  cold  respect  of  men,  not 
their  love,  their  devotion. 

President  Adams'  life,  as  sketched  by  himself,  was  one  of  rare  simplic 
ity,  industry,  and  absence  of  relaxation,  or  pleasure  of  any  kind.  Rising  at  4 
or  5  in  the  winter,  and  lighting  his  own  fire,  he  devoted  several  hours  to  work, 
ere  the  average  man  was  out  of  bed.  The  usual  forenoon  and  afternoon 
hours  were  given  to  public  affairs,  sorely  interrupted  then  as  now  by  throngs 
of  visitors.  He  was  often  so  overtaxed  as  to  be  compelled  to  retire  at  8  or 
9  in  the  evening.  Bathing  in  the  solitary  Potomac,  and  riding  on  horseback 
were  among  the  means  employed  to  insure  a  health,  uniformly  good. 
Descended  from  a  hardy  race,  well  made  for  endurance,  an  abstemious,  cleanly 
life  fitted  him  for  the  continuous  strain  of  labor  and  anxiety  carried  through 
all  his  years.  He  had  not  a  particle  of  the  magnetism  which  attracts  per 
sonal  followers,  which  leads  and  moulds  men  to  a  purpose,  and  subjects  them 
to  the  will.  He  hardly  had  personal  friends,  save  as  good  men  are  the  friends 
of  virtue.  Mr.  Adams'  relations  with  his  cabinet  were  pleasant,  friendly, 
nothing  more.  Those  were  the  clays  of  permanency  in  the  cabinet.  All  of 
Mr.  Adams'  cabinet  appointees  remained,  with  the  exception  of  Governor 
Barbour,  who  wished  to  go  to  England.  Ho  probably  desired  to  be  absent 
when  the  day  of  certain  defeat  came,  which  must  have  seemed  inevitable. 
His  place  was  filled  with  General  Peter  B.  Porter,  of  New  York,  in  com 
pliance  with  the  wish  of  the  cabinet  itself. 

What  of  comfort  could  be  extracted  from  the  Holy  Scriptures,  he  drew 
as  he  began  each  day  with  some  chapters  of  the  Bible,  in  connection  with 
Scott's  and  Hewlett's  commentaries.  He  was  profoundly  devout  and  relig 
ious,  after  the  New  England  pattern.  He  was  compelled  by  the  squarcst 
rules  of  rigid  honesty,  to  play  a  losing  game,  while  his  opponents  resorted 
to  all  the  tricks  then  known,  to  which  their  ingenuity  and  mendacity  made 
additions.  Mr.  Adams  was  not  one  by  nature  and  temper  to  submit  plac 
idly  to  the  injustice  meted  out  to  him  ;  nor  did  the  lesson  of  Christian 
meekness  restrain  him  from  setting  down  in  his  diary  his  opinion  of  his 
traducers  and  enemies.  His  command  of  the  strong  expressions  of  Eng 
lish  was  copious  ;  his  power  of  vituperation  unsurpassed.  He  spoke  of 
Randolph  as  the  image  and  superscription  of  a  great  man  stamped  on  base 
metal;  as  a  frequenter  of  gin  lane  and  beer  ally.  "The  rancor  of  this 
man's  soul  against  me  is  that  which  sustains  his  life  ;  the  agony  of  envy 
and  hatred  of  me,  and  the  hope  of  effecting  my  downfall,  are  his  chief 
remaining  sources-  of  vitality.  The  issue  of  the  presidential  election  will 
kill  him  by  the  gratification  of  his  revenge." 


554  JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS. 

In  the  exigency  of  the  campaign  Mr.  Adams  did  one  thing  not  charac 
teristic  of  him.  He  addressed  an  open  letter  to  the  electors  of  Virginia, 
in  which  he  claimed  their  votes  on  the  ground  that  he  had  exposed  to  Mr. 
Jefferson,  twenty  years  before,  the  designs  of  certain  New  England  feder 
alists — the  Essex  junto.  This  was  more  an  ill-judged,  than  an  unworthy 
act.  That  the  statements  made  to  Mr.  Jefferson  were  true,  hardly  admits 
of  a  doubt.  It  was  not  worth  wrhile  to  re-open  the  wound  ;  it  did  nothing 
in  the  desired  direction  ;  it  was  hurtful  to  Mr.  Adams  ;  and  re-involved  him 
in  an  old,  always  profitless  controversy.  In  no  instance  was  he  provoked  to 
retort  upon  his  enemies  any  of  the  many  gross  injustices  done  to  him.  The 
election  resulted  in  eighty-three  votes  for  Adams,  (one  less  than  in  the  con 
test  of  1824),  and  one  hundred  and  seventy-eight  for  Jackson.  Mr.  Cal- 
houn  was  re-elected  Vice  President  by  one  hundred  and  seventy-one  votes, 
eleven  less  than  he  received  r.t  the  previous  election. 

He  need  not  have  been  surprised.  He  could  not  conceal  his  disap 
pointment.  That  his  administration  should  receive  such  a  judgment  from 
the  people  was  disheartening  to  others  than  himself.  That  Andrew  Jackson 
should  have  been  preferred  by  the  masses  to  John  Ouincy  Adams,  should 
not  greatly  surprise ;  that  the  American  people  quite  deliberately  elected 
Jackson  over  Adams,  is  not  encouraging.  Von  Hoist,  the  able  German 
political  historian,  says  that  "in  the  person  of  Adams,  the  last  statesman, 
who  was  to  occupy  it  for  a  long  time,  left  the  White  House."  The  line  of 
able,  of  great  Presidents,  of  men  elected  for  eminent  fitness  for  the  place, 
was  violently  interrupted,  and  an  epoch  in  political  history  closed,  and 
closed  worthily.  Mr.  Adams  was  well  entitled  to  rank  with  his  prede 
cessors.  A  new  and  depressing  era  was  to  open ;  one  in  which  personal 
interests  were  to  be  the  controling  element  in  the  administration  of  the 
government. 

Mr.  Adams  philosophically  regarded  it  as  closing  his  public  career.  He 
was  then  in  his  sixty-second  year — an  old  man  ;  his  view  of  himself  was 
most  sad.  It  was  very  superficial.  The  result  had  left  his  "character  and 
reputation  a  wreck ;"  his  "sunsets  in  deepest  gloom;"  "the  year  1829 
begins  in  gloom;  "  "the  dawn  was  overcast,  and  as  I  began  to  write,  my 
shaded  lamp  went  out ; "  and  he  justly  observes,  the  noting  of  so  trivial  a 
thing  "may  serve  but  to  mark  the  present  temper  of  my  mind."  The 
strong,  self-sufficient  Adams  had  his  moments  of  weakness.  He  went  to 
retirement  as  he  said  wTith  a  combination  of  parties  and  public  men  against 
his  character  and  reputation,  such  as  had  not  attended  any  man  since  the 
Union  began,  and  that  combination  had  been  formed,  and  was  then  exulting 
over  him,  for  the  devotion  of  his  life  and  soul  to  the  Union.  This  very 
reflection  should  have  conveyed  consolation  to  his  soul,  which  for  the  time 
tvas  beyond  the  reach  of  alleviation.  His  language  is  exquisitely  pathetic. 
He  resolved  "  to  go  into  the  deepest  retirement,  and  withdraw  from  all 


RE-ELECTION    DEFEATED 


555 


connection  with  public  affairs. "  This  decision  saddened  him,  and  he  was 
pained  as  he  contemplated  its  effect  upon  his  mind  and  temperament.  He 
intended  to  turn  his  attention  to  something  useful,  and  so  employ  his  mind 
that  it  might  not  go  to  premature  decay. 

The  cold,  proud,  reticent  man,  in  his  loneliness,  appeals  unintentionally 
to  our  sympathy.  His  position  in  many  respects  was  the  parallel  of  his 
father's,  and  he  followed  him  to  the  same  Quincy,  in  retirement,  where  the 
elder  Adams  died  on  the  4th  of  July,  1826.  The  Quincy  home  he  inherited; 
and  he  came  back  to  the  old  controversy  with  his  enemies  of  the  Essex 
junto,  recently  so  needlessly  re-opened  by  his  letter  to  Virginia.  Mr. 
Adams  had  made  his  original  communication  to  President  Jefferson  to  stim 
ulate  a  repeal  of  the  embargo,  which,  however  wise  its  enactment,  was  not 
wisely  repealed,  when  it  should  have  been  ;  and  the  detained  ships  were 
rotting  at  their  own  wharves,  while  their  cargos  were  perishing.  Mr. 
Adams  feared  that  the  depression  produced  by  the  embargo,  worxing  on 
already  alienated  minds,  might  precipitate  disloyal  action  ;  and  the  commu 
nication  was  made  in  absolute  good  faith,  for  the  best  purpose.  On  this,  his 
final  return,  thirteen  of  the  gentlemen  who  supposed  themselves  assailed, 
wrote  him  a  bitter  letter  demanding  the  names  of  the  parties  implicated, 
which  he  had  never  given.  Mr.  Adams  replied,  in  good  temper  for  him, 
that  he  had  never  given  the  names,  and  he  declined  to  give  them.  His 
assailants  rejoined  with  heat,  hating  him  with  an  animosity  as  strong  as 
when  he  left  the  federal  party.  Coming  as  it  did  ere  he  had  recovered  from 
the  anguish  of  his  crushing  defeat,  the  assailed  man  set  himself  to  the  task  of 
self  vindication,  Mr.  Adams  was  usually  in  the  right.  He  had  preserved 
the  evidence,  and  he  now  deliberately  placed  it  in  a  pamphlet,  where  it  is 
arranged  in  an  effective  way,  strong,  clear,  incisive,  bold,  conclusive,  and 
yet  he  did  not  publish  it,  nor  did  he  in  anyway  rejoin  to  his  assailants,  and 
they  died,  not  knowing  how  much  they  owed  to  this  uncharacteristic  for. 
bcarancc,  which  we  wonder  over.  In  these  later  years  Charles  Francis 
Adams  has  given  the  pamphlet  to  the  world,  which  amply  vindicates  the 
original  communication  made  to  President  Jefferson.  In  a  literary  view  it 
is  one  of  the  happiest  of  Mr.  Adams'  many  labors.  Its  composition  may 
not  have  been  a  labor  of  love  ;  withholding  it  was  an  act  of  unexpected  gener 
osity  or  forbearance.  What  was  he  now  to  do  ?  He  was  still  in  full  vigor, 
hale,  though  worn.  He  had  been  a  versifier  from  youth,  and  he  published 
a  rhymed  description  of  the  conquest  of  Ireland.  He  plunged  into  the 
Latin  classics  ;  he  meditated  a  memoir  of  his  father,  and  wrote  the  opening. 
The  publication  of  this  by  his  son  occasions  little  regret  that  his  plan  was 
left  unexecuted.  Though  fond  of  literature,  few  able  men  had  less  mental 
aptitude  to  become  a  successful  writer. 


jOfllS    QUINCY    ADAMS. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

AGAIN  A  MEMBER  OF  CONGRESS. 

IN  the  summer  of  1826,  William  Morgan,  a  thriftless  tailor,  of  Batavia, 
New  York,  wrote  an  expose  of  the  secrets  of  Free  Masonry.  He  was 
seized,  carried  to  old  Fort  Niagara,  and,  it  is  generally  believed,  made  way 
with.  He  certainly  never  returned.  The  event  produced  great  excitement, 
aggravated  by  the  alleged  interference  of  members  of  the  order,  to  prevent 
an  investigation,  and  thwart  the  efforts  made  to  prosecute  parties  charged 
with  murder.  The  uprising  against  the  order  took  a  political  form.  The 
anti-Masonic  party  in  western  New  York,  cast  seventy  votes  in  1829,  and  one 
hundred  and  twenty-eight  in  1830.  It  spread  to  other  states,  Pennsylvania, 
Ohio,  Massachusetts,  Vermont,  and  elsewhere,  and  in  1832  ran  \Virt  for 
President,  carrying  Vermont,  and  probably  diverting  votes  enough  from 
Mr.  Clay  in  Ohio,  New  York,  and  New  Jersey,  to  re-elect  General 
Jackson. 

It  was  one  of  the  charges  of  the  Jackson  men  that  Mr.  Adams  was  a 
Mason  ;  which  charge  was  attended  with  odium.  He  was  never  a  Mason, 
though  he  did  not  deny  this  accusation.  In  September,  1830,  the  anti- 
Masons  and  others,  of  the  Plymouth  district,  which  happily  did' not  include 
Boston,  by  a  formal  delegation,  offered  Mr.  Adams  the  Congressional  nom 
ination.  They  expressed  the  fear  that,  having  been  President,  he  would 
not  accept.  His  reply  was  that  he  thought  an  ex-President  might  honorably 
accept  the  office  of  selectman,  if  elected  by  the  people.  The  nomination 
for  Congress  was  accepted  and  election  followed.  This  post  he  continu 
ously  filled  until  his  death,  February  23,  1848,  a  period  of  seventeen  years. 
During  the  year  following  his  election  to  Congress,  the  anti-Masons  of  Mas 
sachusetts,  nominated  Mr.  Adams  for  governor.  The  Everetts,  and  others, 
endeavored  to  induce  the  national  republicans  to  accept  him  as  their  candi 
date,  which  it  is  believed  they  would  have  done,  had  it  not  been  that  it 
would  re-open  the  old  controversy  with  the  federalists  ;  as  it  was,  each  of 


AGAIN    A    MEMBER    OF    CONGRESS.  557 

the  three  parties  nominated  a  candidate.  There  was  no  election  by  the 
people.  The  national  republicans  had  a  majority  in  the  legislature,  in  which 
the  contest  devolved,  and  elected  their  candidate,  John  Davis,  who  was 
advanced  from  that  post  to  the  senate.  Mr.  Adams  would  gladly  have 
accepted  an  election  as  governor  ;  his  defeat  only  isolated  him  the  more. 
For  his  greater  mission,  he  was  left  solitary  and  independent  of  all  men  and 
parties.  Mr.  Adams  took  his  seat  in  the  twenty-second  Congress  in 
December,  1831.  Viewed  from  the  present  standpoint,  he  seems  to  haw 
stood  alone,  the  one  conspicuous  figure  of  all  the  years  of  his  service. 

No  man  ever  entered  the  House  possessed  of  such  vast  stores  of  kno\\' 
edge  upon  all  subjects,  or  had  his  mental  resources  better  at  command 
Conscientious  in  the  discharge  of  all  duties,  punctual  in  attendance  upon 
the  sittings  of  Congress,  he  always  voted  and,  though  nominally  of  th^ 
national  republicans,  acted  independently.  Though  called  the  "old  man 
eloquent,"  the  name  was  hardly  appropriate.  He  had  no  quality  of  the 
orator,  and  little  that  pertained  to  eloquence.  His  voice  was  shrill,  pierc 
ing,  and  liable  to  break.  Not  a  rhetorician,  nor  yet  lacking  fitting  words, 
he  always  had  matter  pertinent  to  the  subject  in  hand.  With  no  fancy,  no 
wit,  no  humor,  he  was  always  intensely  in  earnest.  A  good  parliamentarian, 
he  was  a  hard  fighter,  loving  a  close,  bitter  contest ;  a  master  of  sarcasm  and 
invective,  irritable,  quick  tempered,  and  aggressive,  he  himself  never  knew 
how  hard  he  hit;  and  careless  of  consequences,  he  was  accustomed  to  stand 
alone,  never  counting  opponents,  and  regardless  of  their  quality.  Ready  to 
defend  a  pass  against  a  host,  or  single  handed  attack  an  army  in  the  field, 
he  soon  became  not  only  the  most  conspicuous  figure  in  Congress,  but  will 
probably  remain  the  most  remarkable  in  American  parliamentary  history. 
Nor  has  he  any  parallel  in  the  annals  of  the  British  senate.  His  days  were 
days  of  strife,  his  career  one  of  chronic  war.  Without  allies  or  friends  for 
several  years,  he  was  rich  in  enemies,  and  was  seldom  without  a  controversy 
on  his  hands.  Like  the  French  Marshal  Massena,  the  heat,  roar,  and  smoke 
of  a  battle,  of  his  own  seeking,  seemed  to  clear  his  atmosphere,  inspire, 
steady,  and  strengthen  all  his  faculties.  Though  all  men  suffered  who 
attacked  him,  he  so  exasperated  the  slaveholders  and  their  allies  that, 
blinded  and  reeling  from  his  blows,  a  sort  of  fury  possessed  them  to  renew 
the  attack.  To  their  attacks  he  was  impervious.  There  was  no  flaw  in  his 
character,  no  weakness  in  his  armor,  no  mistake  or  fault  in  his  information. 
Never  caught  at  a  weak  point,  nor  in  an  unguarded  hour,  he  was  always 
alert,  never  wavering,  never  at  a  loss.  Often  losing  temper  but  gaining 
strength  and  power  by  it,  he  never  made  a  serious  mistake,  met  a  rebuff, 
lost  a  battle,  or  suffered  a  disadvantage.  He  was  unlike  any  other  man  in 
the  American  Congress;  stood  so  far  apart  from  all  men,  that  he  can  be 
compared  with  none.  It  is  rather  by  contrasts  that  he  is  to  be  estimated. 
He  had  no  followers.  Admirers  and  friends  could  hardly  touch  him  at  the 


558  JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS. 

point  of  sympathy.  Men  instinctively  antagonized  and  prepared  him  for 
defense.  Circumstances  might  compel  coalitions;  alliances  with  him  were 
hardly  possible.  Men  were  assured  of  his  sincerity,  of  his  honesty,  of  his 
inflexibility  of  purpose,  and  this  gave  him  power  in  the  House,  a  great  and 
growing1  influence  in  the  nation. 

o  o 

It  is  barely  possible  for  the  younger  generation  to  appreciate  the  thrall- 
dom  in  which  the  slave  power  held  the  north.  A  glance  at  the  advantages 
already  gained  by  the  south,  may  help  to  a  comprehension  of  its  attitude, 
when  Mr.  Adams  entered  the  House.  On  the  formation  of  the  national 
government  no  one  attempted  to  justify  slavery.  It  was  permitted,  and 
the  African  slave  trade  secured  tolerance  until  1808.  Slavery  was  already 
prohibited  in  the  Northwest  territory,  by  the  ordinance  of  1787.  The 
south  had  representation  in  the  House  based  in  part  on  her  slaves.  The 
northern  states  passed  laws  for  the  return  of  escaping  slaves.  These  being 
unsatisfactory,  four  years  after  the  organization  under  the  Constitution,  the 
first  fugitive  slave  law  was  enacted  by  Congress.  Already  the  Quakers  of 
North  Carolina  had  freed  their  slaves,  which  the  state  seized  and  sold.  In 
1800  Congress  perpetuated  the  slave  code  in  the  newly  created  District  of 
Columbia.  In  1803  Louisiana  was  purchased.  In  1804  the  United  States 
fought  Tunis  to  free  white  slaves,  and  stole  black  ones  from  Africa.  In  1806 
intercourse  with  St.  Domingo  was  broken  off,  because  slaves  there  were  in 
arms  for  freedom.  In  1808  the  foreign  slave  trade  was  abolished;  coastwise 
and  interstate  slave  traffic  protected,  thus  securing  a  monopoly  to  the 
domestic  producers  of  slaves.  In  1810-11  Georgia  sent  an  army  into 
Florida  to  recapture  slaves,  and  though  at  peace  with  Spain,  Congress  with 
closed  doors  connived  at  the  seizure  of  Amelia  island,  which  became  a 
rendezvous  for  slavers  and  pirates.  Spain  complained,  and  the  United 
States  disclaimed.  In  1816  Randolph  pronounced  a  fierce  philippic  against 
the  slave  trade  at  the  capital.  In  1818,  came  the  first  Seminole  war,  for  the 
capture  of  slaves,  in  which  was  blown  up  with  hot  shot  old  Fort  Nichols, 
where  fugitives  had  taken  shelter.  Of  the  captives,  a  few  were  handed  over 
to  the  Indian  allies  for  torture.  The  year  1820  saw  the  Missouri  compro 
mise,  whereby  slavery  gained  a  kingdom  and  its  northern  supporters  the 
name  "doughface."  In  1821  Florida  was  purchased.  The  "Maroons," 
children  of  slaves  born  there,  were,  by  the  treaty  of  purchase,  to  be  pro 
tected,  but  a  long  war  was  waged  for  their  capture  and  return  to  slavery. 
In  1826  the  south  fought  the  Panama  mission  in  the  interests  of  slavery, 
because  it  was  feared  that  slavery  might  suffer  in  Cuba  and  Porto  Rico,  as 
well  as  at  home.  In  Congress  no  voice  had  been  raised  in  condemnation 
of  slavery,  save  incidentally  in  the  debates  of  1820.  Curiously  enough, 
under  Mr.  Adams'  championship  of  freedom,  the  whole  controversy  was 
conducted  on  the  seemingly  illogical  issue  of  the  right  of  petition,  which 


AGA1X    A    MEMBER    OF    CONGRESS.  559 

never  made  much  figure  in  Congressional  history,  save  in  the  time  and  under 
the  iead  of  Mr.  Adams  against  slavery. 

Meantime  the  conscience  of  the  North  had  been  wonderfully  quicl^ned 
on  tlvj  subject.  Men  were  awakened  to  its  moral,  as  well  as  political  aspects; 
discussion  arose,  and  action  followed.  Though  Mr.  Adams  would  have 
preferred  the  chairmanship  of  the  committee  on  foreign  affairs,  a  pending 
crisis  with  South  Carolina  on  the  subject  of  imposts,  decided  his  appoint 
ment  to  the  chairmanship  of  the  committee  on  manufactures.  Nullification 
really  was  one  phase  of  the  approaching  struggle,  though  not  necessarily  con 
nected  with  slavery.  Mr.  Adams  deemed  it  wise  to  examine  with  care  the 
subject  of  the  tariff,  with  a  view  to  such  modification  as  might  be  just. 
Jackson's  annual  message  of  December  4,  1832,  filled  Mr.  Adams  with  rage. 
In  his  judgment  it  was  a  total  change  of  policy  and  a  surrender  to  the 
nullifiers.  Jackson's  proclamation  in  reply  to  the  ordinance  of  nullification, 
was  more  in  accord  with  Adams'  temper.  The  ultimate  compromise,  which 
was  a  concession  without  a  vindication  of  the  underlying  principle,  was  very 
distasteful  to  Adams,  who  would  have  compelled  the  state  to  abandon  her 
position.  Jackson  was  glad  to  have  the  matter  adjusted,  and  aided  the 
compromise.  Had  Adams  been  re-elected  President  the  matter  would  have 
otherwise  terminated,  and  there  might  never  have  been  a  war  of  rebellion. 
In  the  main  he  was  in  opposition  to  the  administration  of  General  Jackson, 
though  not  from  any  feeling  of  personal  rivalry.  Jackson's  final  weakening 
to  the  nullifiers,  his  opposition  to  internal  improvements,  his  characteristic 
war  on  the  United  States  bank,  and  removal  of  the  deposits,  and  his  Kitchen 
cabinet,  would  have  placed  any  independent  man  in  opposition.  In  the  mat 
ter  of  French  spoliation  Mr.  Adams  gave  the  administration  efficient  aid. 
A  treaty  had  secured  to  this  country  five  millions,  as  compensation  for  dam 
ages  to  American  commerce,  but  it  had  never  been  paid.  Jackson  was 
determined  to  have  it  or  fight.  He  sent  a  message  to  Congress  recommend 
ing  reprisals  on  French  commerce,  and  ordered  the  American  minister,  Mr. 
Livingston,  to  demand  his  passports  and  go  to  London.  The  old  hero  so 
frightened  his  timid  supporters,  that  he  was  in  danger  of  being  left  in  a 
minority.  As  in  his  extremity  for  the  Florida  invasion,  Mr.  Adams  came 
to  his  rescue,  and  by  a  telling  speech  turned  the  tide  in  his  favor.  Timely 
and  important  as  it  was,  it  gained  no  recognition  from  Jackson.  The  speech 
was  in  support  of  a  cause,  and  not  of  the  President  personally.  An  intense 
egotist,  in  his  own  estimation  he  stood  for  all  causes.  It  is  said  that  R.  M. 
Johnson,  of  Kentucky,  once  attempted  to  renew  friendly  relations  between 
Jackson  and  Adams,  and  decided  Jackson  ought  to  make  the  first  advance, 
which  he  refused  to  do.  Later,  when  the  President  visited  Boston,  it  was 
proposed  that  Harvard  college  confer  on  him  the  honor  of  doctor  of  laws. 
So  absurd  was  this  that  Mr.  Adams,  who  was  a  member  of  the  board, 
opposed  it,  and  afterward  spoke  of  Jackson's  learning  in  terms  of  contempt 


JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS. 


CHAPTER  V. 

HIS  COURSE  ON  THE  SLAVERY  QUESTION. 

SOON  after  Mr.  Adams  took  his  seat  he  presented  fifteen  petitions  from 
Pennsylvania  for  the  abolition  of  slavery  and  the  slave  trade  in  the  Dis 
trict  of  Columbia.  He  moved  their  reference  to  the  standing  committee  on 
the  District,  saying  that  he  did  not  favor  that  part  of  the  prayer  which  asked 
for  the  abolition  of  slavery  itself.  His  real  reason  was  he  thought  that 
should  abide  the  fate  of  slavery  in  the  adjoining  states.  The  reference  was 
made,  and  seemingly  nothing  came  of  it.  The  south  was  not  alarmed  and 
years  of  quiet  followed.  His  diary  is  silent  on  the  subject  of  slavery,  and 
slavery  remained  undisturbed  in  Congress. 

The  project  of  the  annexation  of  Texas,  which  assumed  definite  form 
after  the  success  of  the  Texan  revolution,  in  1835,  and  which,  it  was 
believed,  had  for  its  object  the  extension  of  slave  territory,  aroused  appre 
hension  at  the  north.  Mr.  Adams  took  no  part  in  the  rising  struggle,  out 
side  the  House.  He  was  not  an  outside  leader  or  orator,  attended  no 
anti-slavery  conventions,  made  no  addresses,  wrote  no  articles  for  the  press, 
or  letters  for  publication.  His  task  was  to  conduct  the  case  in  the  House 
of  Representatives,  and  all  he  needed  of  support,  was  to  be  continued  in 
his  seat.  Conscienceless  wealth  and  respectability  were  against  him  ;  but 
his  district  was  genuinely  Puritan,  and  stood  by  him.  Mr.  Adams  pre 
sented  more  petitions  in  February,  1835,  for  the  abolition  of  slavery  in  the 
District  of  Columbia.  The  south  and  its  sympathizers  deemed  it  expedient 
to  put  a  stop  to  this.  The  first  battle  was  in  the  Senate,  where  Thomas  Mor 
ris,  democratic  senator  for  Ohio,  presented  petitions  for  the  abolition  of 
slavery  in  the  District.  Buchanan  denounced  the  agitation  of  the  slavery 
question  as  a  moral  wrong.  The  Senate  decided  that  all  such  memorials 
should  be  laid  on  the  table.  Mr.  Calhoun  brought  forward  a  measure  to 
exclude  incendiary  matter  from  the  mails,  and  mobs  in  the  south  executed 


HIS    COURSE    ON    THE    SLAVERY    QUESTION.  $bl 

the  law  in  advance  of  its  enactment.  The  northern  states  were  called  on  for 
legislation,  and  Maine  responded.  Senator  Ruggles  declared  there  was  not 
an  abolitionist  in  that  state.  Arkansas  was  admitted,  with  a  constitution 
prohibiting  the  abolition  of  slavery. 

Mr.  Adams,  on  the  4th  of  January,  1836,  presented  a  petition  in  the 
usual  form.  Mr.  Glascock,  of  Georgia,  moved  that  it  be  not  received,  and 
a  two  days'  debate  followed.  Pending  this,  Jarvis,  of  Maine,  offered  a  reso 
lution  that  the  House  entertain  no  petition  to  abolish  slavery  in  the  District 
of  Columbia.  January  i8th,  Mr.  Adams  offered  another  series ;  one  from 
one  hundred  and  forty-eight  women,  whom  he  declared  he  thought  were 
citizens.  A  motion  was  made  to  refer,  followed  by  a  motion  to  lay  that 
motion  on  the  table.  February  8th,  this  ingenious  device  to  defeat  the  right 
of  petition,  was  sent  to  a  special  committee,  Mr.  Pinkney  chairman.  May 
8th,  the  committee  reported :  First,  Congress  had  no  power  over  slavery 
in  the  states  ;  second,  Congress  ought  not  interfere  with  slavery  in  the  Dis 
trict ;  third,  these  petitions  were  disquieting,  and  should  neither  be  printed 
nor  referred,  but  laid  on  the  table,  and  no  further  action  taken  on  them. 
Though  he  asked  for  but  five  minutes,  the  House  refused  to  hear  Mr.  Adams 
on  the  first  resolution,  which  was  adopted  by  one  hundred  and  eighty-two 
to  nine.  Mr.  .Adams  asked  to  be  excused  from  voting  on  the  second  prop 
osition,  and  was  indulged.  The  third,  with  its  preamble,  was  read.  He 
arose  and  declared  it  was  unconstitutional ;  a  violation  of  the  rules  of  the 
House,  and  of  the  rights  of  the  people.  He  was  interrupted  by  shrieks 
and  yells,  but  obstinately  persisted.  This  proposition  was  adopted  by  one 
hundred  and  seventeen  to  sixty-eight — a  respectable  majority, — and  the 
south  again  breathed  easily.  This  was  the  first  form  of  the  famous  Ather- 
ton  gag,  finally  embodied  in  the  twenty-first  standing  rule,  for  so  many 
years  the  target  of  the  assaults  of  Mr.  Adams.  December  2ist  and  22d  the 
House  was  again  in  an  uproar  over  this  question,  and  Mr.  Adams  had  to 
override  the  storm  to  make  his  sentiments  heard.  He  had  a  quarrel  with 
the  speaker,  first  to  get  his  name  on  the  journal  as  voting  on  this  proposi 
tion  ;  then  as  to  its  form,  insisting  that  his  speech  should  also  be  recorded. 
This  was  voted  out  of  order.  Then  he  demanded  that  his  motion  and  the 
ruling  be  recorded.  This  not  being  done  he  brought  it  up  again  the  next 
day.  In  the  debate  that  followed,  a  southern  man  declared  that,  if  ever  the 
issue  came  to  a  war,  the  south  would  conquer  New  England.  Mr.  Adams 
told  him  his  "name  should  go  down  to  posterity  doomed  to  everlasting 
fame." 

It  was  the  fate  of  the  south  that  the  measures  it  adopted  to  quiet  the 
agitation  should  work  still  greater  woe,  and  lead  to  the  destruction  of  slavery. 
The  northern  opponents  of  slavery,  finding  their  right  of  petition  denied 
determined  to  exercise  it,  and  through  Mr.  Adams  flooded  Congress  with 
their  memorials.  For  a  long  iimc  this  made  a  great  demand  on  his  time,  and 


JOHN    yUINCY    ADAMS. 

exposed  him  to  no  little  danger.  It  made  him  the  perpetual  antagonist  of  the 
ruling  power  in  the  republic,  and  compelled  him  daily  to  face  alone  a  bold, 
unscrupulous  body  of  able,  angry,  persistent  men  ;  watchful  and  alert  to  catch 
or  trap  him.  His  opposition  strengthened  him,  and  the  burdens  placed  upon 
him  increased  his  power.  When  he  came  to  have  coadjutors  and  allies  in  the 
House,  they  were  rather  a  source  of  weakness.  He  had  to  guard  them  from 
missteps  and  mistakes,  to  hold  in  check  the  extremists  who,  by  precipitate 
action,  might  injure  the  cause.  A  public  opinion  must  be  formed,  which 
should  sustain  every  step.  The  north  must  first  be  conquered.  The  aboli 
tionists  desired  to  push  him  forward ;  his  family  and  personal  friends  to  hold 
him  back.  Between  these  conflicting  opinions  he  must  choose  his  own 
course,  and  that  he  did  wisely. 

February  3,  1837,  was  a  day  memorable  in  the  life  of  Mr.  Adams,  and 
in  the  struggle.  At  the  end  of  a  series  of  two  hundred  petitions  was  one 
from  ladies  of  Virginia,  which  he  offered  ;  as  to  the  remaining  one,  he  said  he 
would  ask  the  decision  of  the  speaker  before  offering  it.  It  purported  to 
come  from  twenty-two  slaves ;  he  wanted  to  know  whether  it  came  within 
the  rule  of  exclusion.  The  speaker  hesitated,  could  not  decide  till  he  knew 
the  contents  of  the  paper.  Mr.  Adams  said  he  suspected  it  was  not  what  it 
appeared  to  be.  He  would  send  it  to  the  chair.  Objections.  The  speaker 
said  it  was  so  extraordinary,  he  would  take  the  sense  of  the  House.  When 
that  body  came  to  get  an  idea  of  the  case,  the  greatest  excitement  prevailed 
Men  rushed  in  from  the  lobbies,  and  many  tried  to  speak  at  the  same  time. 
No  one  knew  what  the  paper  was.  Few  had  heard  what  Mr.  Adams  said  of 
it.  The  words  "  Expel  him!  Expel  him!"  were  shouted.  No  one  was 
equal  to  the  emergency.  No  one  was  cool  but  Mr.  Adams.  Haynes,  of 
South  Carolina,  moved  to  reject.  Lewis,  from  Alabama,  would  punish  Mr. 
Adams.  Haynes  withdrew  his  inadequate  motion.  Grantland  would  second 
Mr.  Lewis,  who  thought  if  Mr.  Adams  was  not  punished,  the  southern  men 
had  better  go  home,  as  they  did  twenty-four  years  later.  Alford,  of  Vir 
ginia,  would  move  that  when  presented,  the  petition  should  be  removed 
from  the  house  and  burnt.  WTaddy  Thompson,  of  South  Carolina,  offered 
a  resolution  "that  Mr.  Adams,  for  his  attempt  to  introduce  a  petition  pur 
porting  to  come  from  slaves,  has  been  guilty  of  gross  disrespect,  and  that  he 
be  instantly  placed  at  the  bar  of  the  House,  and  severely  censured  by  the 
speaker.  He  made  a  little  speech  against  Mr.  Adams,  and  threatened  him 
with  a  criminal  prosecution.  Mr.  Haynes  wanted  to  amend  this,  and  more 
excited  speeches  followed.  Then  another  resolve,  declaring  that  Mr.  Adams 
by  his  attempt  to  introduce  a  petition  from  slaves  for  the  abolition  of  slavery 
in  the  District  of  Columbia,  had  committed  an  outrage,  a  flagrant  indignity, 
extended  the  rights  of  freemen  to  slaves,  incited  them  to  insurrection,  and 
that  he  be  forthwith  censured.  Mr.  Lewis  was  still  in  favor  of  going  to 


HIS    COURSE    ON    THE    SLAVERY    QUESTION.  5^3 

Alabama.*  Mr.  Alford  preferred  to  remain  "till  this  beautiful  Potomac 
became  a  river  of  blood," — and  here  Mr.  Patton,  of  Virginia,  got  in  a  word 
of  sense.  He  asked  if  Mr.  Adams  had  attempted  to  offer  the  petition? 
Did  it  pray  to  have  slavery  abolished  ?  Mr.  Adams  then  arose  and  said, 
coolly  for  him,  that  he  thought  it  proper  to  remain  silent  till  the  House 
called  on  him  ;  when  he  supposed  he  might  be  heard.  He  did  not  offer  the 
petition.  He  intended  to  get  the  decision  of  the  speaker  before  taking  a 
step.  Should  the  House  ever  come  to  a  knowledge  of  the  contents  of  the 
paper,  it  would  need  to  amend  the  last  resolution.  "The  prayer  was  that 
slavery  should  not  be  abolished. "  The  petitioners  were  the  auxiliaries  of 
the  gentlemen!  This  was  a  pretty  dish  to  place  before  the  House!  Sore 
discomfiture  prevailed,  during  which  poor  Mann,  of  New  York,  the  poorest 
man  ever  in  the  House,  made  a  speech,  full  of  stupid  abuse  of  Mr.  Adams, 
and  a  sad  floundering  among  epithets.  Then  Thompson  angrily  assailed 
Mr.  Adams,  for  trifling  with  the  House — which  was  good;  and  offered  three 
resolutions  to  meet  the  new  aspect  of  the  case,  in  substance — first,  that 
Mr.  Adams  by  an  effort  to  present  a  petition  from  slaves  was  guilty  of  gross 
contempt  of  the  House;  second,  that  said  member  by  creating  the  impres 
sion,  and  leaving  the  House  under  said  impression,  that  said  petition  was 
for  the  abolition  of  slavery,  when  he  knew  it  was  not,  has  trifled  with  the 
House;  third,  that  he  be  censured  by  the  House. 

Mr.  Pinkney  said  Mr.  Adams,  by  the  possession  of  the  petition,  admit 
ted  communication  with  slaves,  and  i^as  indictable  for  abetting  iiisiinrctwir, 
and  censurable  by  the  House.  One  gentleman  thought  if  the  petition  was 
burnt,  the  presenter  should  share  in  the  fire.  On  the  next  day,  Dromgool 
of  Virginia,  the  shrewdest  of  the  southern  party,  brought  in  more  resolu 
tions.  His  first  declared  that  Mr.  Adams  "has  given  color  to  the  idea  that 
slaves  have  the  right  of  petition,  and  of  his  readiness  to  be  their  organ,"  a  IT*. 
deserves  censure;  second,  that  he  receive  a  censure  from  the  speaker.  In 
the  debate  of  that  day  Mr.  Alford  deplored  "  this  awful  crisis  of  our  beloved 
country."  Mr.  Robertson,  though  opposing  the  resolutions,  denounced 
Mr.  Adams.  All  the  warm  bloods  took  their  time,  and  had  their  flings  at 
the  old  man.  His  colleague,  Mr.  Lincoln,  defended  him,  as  did  George 
Evans,  of  Maine, — both  ably.  Caleb  Gushing,  another  colleague,  then  a 
young  man,  made  a  strong  and  effective  speech  for  him.  In  the  main,  how 
ever,  he  was  left  to  care  for  himself,  to  which  he  was  quite  equal.  Long 
before  the  south  talked  itself  out,  and  before  Mr.  Adams  had  said  a  word, 
the  champions  came  to  feel,  there  was  absolutely  nothing  in  their  case;  and 
were  content  with  a  mild,  rather  soothing  form  of  condemnation;  one 
generally  condemning  petitions  from  slaves;  and  that  as  Mr.  Adams  had 
solemnly  disclaimed  disrespect,  and  avowed  his  intention  not  to  present  the 

*Al-a-bama  (Indian) — "Here  we  rest." 


JOHN    QUIXCY    ADAMS. 

petition,  "therefore  all  further  proceedings  in  regard  to  his  conduct  do 
cease."  Mr.  Vandorpool,  of  New  York,  moved  the  previous  question, 
intended  to  cut  Mr.  Adams  off  from  speaking  at  all.  No  southern  man 
would  do  that.  There  was  not  enough  of  that  nerve  which  is  the  meanest 
cowardice,  to  carry  it,  and  Mr.  Adams  had  the  floor.  Poor,  badgered,  be 
rated,  abused  old  man  ;  he  needs  no  pity.  His  enemies  became  objects  of 
pity  under  his  fiery  lash,  but  contempt  places  them  out  of  the  reach  of  pity 
even.  In  the  previous  session  he  had  made  a  masterly  speech  against  the 
acquisition  of  Texas,  which  had  asked  admission  as  a  state  As  this  effort 
had  a  personal  element,  it  was  more  pungent.  He  claimed  that  slaves  had 
the  right  to  petition,  and  his  only  offense  was  asking  a  question.  The 
speaker  had  entertained  and  put  it  to  the  House.  What  did  he  deserve? 
He  showed  the  folly  of  the  numerous  resolutions  aimed  against  him,  and 
was  especially  happy  in  dealing  with  Dromgool's  definition  of  his  offense — 
"giving  color  to  an  idea."  In  language  once  used  by  him  on  the  floor,  and 
never  reported,.  Adams  "consecrated  him  to  everlasting  ridicule."  Each 
assailant  was  dealt  with  in  turn,  and  each  was  eager  to  explain.  He  justified 
every  word  he  had  said,  and  disclaimed  all  idea  of  apology  or  abandon 
ment  of  his  course.  There  was  much  excitement  during  the  delivery  of  his 
speech.  When  he  closed,  no  one  attempted  a  reply,  and  his  assailants, 
abandoning  all  idea  of  censure,  contented  themselves  with  a  resolution  that 
slaves  could  not  petition  the  House.  How  much  they  profited  by  the 
lesson  will  appear  at  a  later  and  greater  day.  Mr.  Adams  supposed  that  the 
petition  was  prepared  by  a  master,  who  had  the  names  of  his  slaves 
appended,  to  place  him  in  a  position  of  embarrassment,  perhaps  danger; 
as  he  held  it  to  be  his  duty  to  present  all  petitions.  It  was  a  part  of  the 
prayer  that  Mr.  Adams  be  expelled  from  the  House,  if  he  presented  more 
petitions  against  slavery. 

The  months  rolled  on.  Mr.  Adams'  diary  shows  how  they  passed  with 
him.  Under  the  dates  of  September  and  October,  1837,  we  mic^  m's  csti- 
mate  of  his  own  position,  as  well  as  that  of  his  friends.  Much  of  Sep 
tember  was  occupied  in  arranging  his  weapons  offensive,  with  which  his 
arsenal  was  now  well  supplied.  Among  the  petitions  offered  was  one  from 
Gregory,  who  wanted  to  be  declared  an  alien  by  act  of  Congress,  till  slavery 
was  abolished,  and  justice  rendered  the  Indians,  also.  September  28th  he 
put  in  a  number  of  petitions  and  offered  a  resolution  on  the  coast  slave 
trade.  The  next  day  he  showered  down  fifty  more.  All  December  he 
plied  the  House.  He  insisted  that  those  referring  to  Texas  should  go  to 
the  foreign  committee.  On  the  2gth  of  the  month  he  offered  them  in 
bundles. 

Mr.  Slade,  from  Vermont,  entered  the  House  with  the  twenty-fifth  Con 
gress,  and  presented  the  resolutions  of  his  state  legislature  against  slavery, 
when  the  slaveholders  in  a  body  withdrew  from  the  House — the  first  seces- 


HIS    COURSE    ON    THE    SLAVERY    QUESTION.  565 

sion.     They  came  back  and  substantially  passed  the  Pickens  Senate  rule; 
thirty-four  northern  democrats  voting  with  them. 

On  the  assembling  of  Congress  in  December,  1838,  Mr.  Atherton,  of 
New  Hampshire,  presented  the  slavery  caucus  platform,  understood  to  be 
from  the  brain  of  Calhoun.  This  fixed  upon  the  House  the  rule  of  the  year 
before,  and  pilloried  the  name  of  Atherton  ;  the  thing  was  henceforth  known 
as  the  "  Atherton  gag."  Joshua  R.  Giddings,  from  Ohio,  took  his  seat  at 
that  session,  and  soon  became  second  to  Mr.  Adams  in  the  contest,  and  his 
friend  in  the  House.  January  3d,  Mr.  Adams  presented  about  a  hundred 
petitions;  January  I3th,  fifty;  January  28th  was  spent  in  receiving  and 
assorting  petitions  ;  February  I4th  following,  he  presented  some  three 
hundred  and  fifty,  all  except  three  or  four  bearing  upon  slavery.  Some 
were  of  an  unique  character,  and  even  under  the  rules  raised  great  excite 
ment.  At  the  last  Mr.  Adams  was  required  to  state  what  they  were,  who 
they  came  from,  and  what  their  object.  On  the  I  3th  of  the  same  month  a 
commotion  was  raised  by  Giddings,  who  gave  as  a  reason  why  he  would  not 
vote  to  build  a  bridge  over  the  Anacosta — eastern  branch  of  the  Potomac — 
that  slavery  made  the  city  of  Washington  an  unfit  capital  of  a  free  country. 
Mr.  Adams  went  promptly  to  his  aid,  as  he  had  aided  Mr.  Slade  in  his  con 
test  the  same  month  against  the  Atherton  resolution. 

Nearly  ever}'  day  saw  an  excitement  in  the  House  over  the  subject  of 
slavery.  Mr.  Adams  had  a  difficulty  with  the  speaker,  on  that  notable  I4th 
of  February,  in  his  persistence  to  get  upon  the  journal  of  the  House  his  rea 
son  for  a  vote  on  the  same  subject.  March  1 2th  following  he  presented 
ninety-six  petitions,  one  of  which  prayed  to  have  the  declaration  of  inde 
pendence  expunged.  Men  were  ingenious  in  inventing  forms  in  which  to 
express  their  horror  of  slavery  and  exacerbate  the  souls  of  slaveocrats. 
December  2Oth  he  opened  with  a  batter}'  of  fifty  anti-slavery  petitions, 
three  of  which  asked  to  have  the  independence  of  Hayti  acknowledged, 
which  was  specially  offensive.  These  he  demanded  should  go  to  the  com 
mittee  on  foreign  affairs,  as  not  within  the  rule;  as  they  were  not:  or,  they 
should  be  sent  to  special  committee,  as  the  foreign  relations  would  never 
report  on  them.  The  chairman  of  the  committee  said  "that  was  an  insinu 
ation  not  to  be  made  against  a  gentleman."  Mr.  Adams  retorted  that  it  was 
11  not  an  insinuation.  It  was  a  direct  charge."  January  7,  1834,  he  cheer 
fully  put  in  ninety-five  anti-slavery  petitions.  In  July  of  that  year  the 
Ainistad,  with  a  small  invoice  of  freshly  imported  slaves,  sailed  from  Ha 
vana  for  the  south  side  of  Cuba.  Four  days  out,  regardless  of  the  Ameri 
can  union,  the  misguided  Africans  arose,  killed  the  captain,  some  of  the 
crew,  captured  the  rest,  whom  the}'  put  ashore,  and  ordered  Montez  a:..d 
Ruaz,  their  purchasers,  to  steer  for  Africa.  They  headed  north,  and  drifted 
upon  the  coast  of  Connecticut,  and  were  seized  by  Lieutenant  Gedney,  of 
the  coast  survey.  He  libeled  the  ship  and  crew  for  salvage,  as  property. 


JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS. 

Montez  and  Ruaz  were  liberated.  Generally  all  captured  slavers  had  been 
carried  into  southern  ports,  and  the  slavers  tried  for  piracy  by  a  jury  of  slave 
buyers,  and  nobody  convicted.  Now  there  was  to  be  a  trial  of  slaves, 
before  freemen,  where  pirates  were  prosecutors.  The  Spanish  minister  also* 
demanded  they  should  be  given  up  as  criminals,  which  the  President,  Mr 
Van  Buren,  favored;  and  he  sent  an  armed  vessel  to  be  in  waiting  to  receive 
them,  the  moment  they  were  decided  to  be  amenable  to  such  a  fate.  The1 
American  world  was  profoundly  stirred,  and  looked  forward  to  the  resul* 
with  the  greatest  solicitude. 

Mr.  Adams  offered  a  resolution  in  the  House  enquiring  why  persons 
charged  with  no  crime  were  held  in  prison,  which  of  course  was  rejected 
by  the  majority.  On  the  trial  the  negroes  were  declared  free  men ; 
Montez  and  Ruaz  appealed  to  the  supreme  court  of  the  United  States,  and 
Mr.  Adams  volunteered  as  counsel  for  the  Africans.  The  court  held  that 
they  were  never  legally  reduced  to  slavery  ;  and  therefore  could  not  be  held. 
As  Mr.  Dromgool  would  say,  "giving  color  to  the  idea  "  that  there  was  ? 
legal  way  in  which  free  men  might  be  reduced  to  slavery.  March  30,  1840, 
was  a  brisk  day  for  Mr.  Adams,  and  he  made  offer  of  five  hundred  and 
eleven  anti-slavery  petitions.  The  north  was  not  quieted  by  the  Atherton 
regimen.  April  I3th,  he  presented  a  petition  to  abolish  the  whipping  oi 
women  in  the  District,  and  it  was  a  fairly  good  day  for  others. 

As  a  whig,  Mr.  Adams  supported  General  Harrison  in  the  presidential 
contest  of  1840.  At  the  extra  session  of  1841,  there  was  the  usual  wrangle 
over  the  "Atherton  gag."  There  was  a  rain  of  anti-slavery  petitions  dur 
ing  all  the  months  Congress  was  in  session.  Among  them  were  many  queer 
specimens.  Men  took  advantage  of  Mr.  Adams'  position  to  attempt  to 
involve  him  in  unpleasant  predicaments,  but  always  failed.  Virginians 
asked  that  all  free  colored  persons  be  sold  or  expelled  from  the  country. 
He  declared  his  abhorrence  of  it,  but  handed  it  in,  saying  that  the  twenty- 
first  rule — the  "  Atherton  " — did  not  exclude  it.  So  he  received  one  from 
Virginia  asking  that  Mr.  Adams  be  arraigned  at  the  bar  of  the  House,  and 
expelled.  He  asked  that  both  be  referred.  Mr.  Dromgool  would  move  to 
lay  the  last  on  the  table,  unless  the  gentleman  desired  to  give  anothef 
direction.  Mr.  Adams  said  carelessly,  that  "the  gentleman  from  Massachu 
setts  cared  very  little  about  it,"  and  the  table  received  it. 

The  2  ist  of  January,  1842,  was  a  memorable  day.  Mr.  Adams  opened 
with  a  petition  from  Georgia,  praying  that  he  be  removed  from  the  chair 
manship  of  the  committee  on  foreign  relations,  where  he  had  been  placed 
by  the  whig  speaker.  Mr.  Adams  took  advantage  of  the  question  of  privi 
lege  thus  presented,  and  proceeded,  under  the  wildest  excitement,  to  defend 
himself;  which  meant  an  excoriation  of  the  pro-slavery  men.  The  speaker 
got  rid  of  it  by  saying  that  the  petition  must  go  over  under  the  rules  of  the 
House.  Mr.  Adams  still  had  the  floor,  and  he  went  on  his  usual  way,  pre- 


HIS    COURSE    ON    THE    SLAVERY     QUESTION.  567 

Anting  petitions,  which  dropped  into  the  bottomless  sink  of  the  twenty-first 
rule.  His  blood  was  up,  as  was  that  of  his  enemies.  Toward  evening, 
with  Giddings,  Slade,  and  Gates  (of  New  York),  around  him,  and  Wise, 
Gilmoer,  Holmes,  and  others,  confronting  him,  exhibiting  a  paper,  he  said: 
"  I  hold  in  my  hand  the  memorial  of  Benjamin  Emerson  and  forty-five 
citizens  of  Massachusetts,  praying  for  the  peaceful  dissolution  of  the  Union 
of  these  states."  An  ominous  silence  fell  on  the  House.  He  went  on  to 
state  the  reason,  a  condensed  indictment  of  the  south,  in  language  cour 
teous,  and  evading  the  fatal  rule.  A  whirl  of  turmoil  swept  through  the 
House,  during  which  Mr.  Adams  moved  its  reference  to  a  select  committee, 
with  instructions  to  report  that  the  prayer  of  the  petition  be  denied;  and 
resumed  his  seat.  Half  a  hundred  men  sprang  to  the  floor,  shouting  "Mr. 
Speaker!  "  At  last  the  wary  old  man  had  delivered  himself  into  the  hands 
of  his  foes,  and  they  sprang  forward  in  fierce  competition  to  mangle  him 
Hopkins,  in  a  rage,  demanded  that  the  paper  be  burnt  in  the  presence  of 
the  House.  Wise  wanted  to  know  if  a  resolution  of  censure  was  in  order. 
Mr.  Adams  thought  that  it  was.  A  motion  was  made  to  adjourn.  Mr. 
Adams  thought  that  if  a  vote  of  censure  was  to  pass,  it  had  better  be  on 
that  day.  Mr.  Gilmoer  offered  a  resolution  of  censure.  A  question  of 
reception  was  made.  Mr.  Adams  hoped  it  would  be  received.  He  had 
waited  long  for  what  such  a  resolution  must  bring — a  great  day  for  brave 
speech,  when  speech  would  be  greater  than  even  deeds.  The  House 
adjourned  without  action.  Men  with  clinched  hands,  and  scowling  brows, 
cursed  the  abolitionists.  Main'  exulted  that  "the  old  man  "  was  now  in 
the  hands  of  the  fierce  democracy.  The  southern  whigs  would  stand  by 
them. 

A  meeting  of  the  .slavery  leaders  was  held  that  night.  Mr.  Giddings 
made  a  vain  effort  to  secure  a  meeting  of  northern  men,  who  would  stand 
by  Mr.  Adams.  He  was  coldly  answered  that  such  a  meeting  would  look 
like  a  sectional  movement.  Slade  and  Young,  of  Vermont;  Calhoun,  of 
Massachusetts;  Henry  Lawrence  and  Simonton,  of  Pennsylvania;  Gates 
and  Crittenden,  of  New  York,  only  responded  kindly,  and  met  in  Mr.  Gio- 
dings'  room.  Dr.  Lcavett  and  Theodore  Weld  were  also  present.  Mr. 
Adams  was  sent  tor.  So  long  unused  to  kindness  and  sympathy  was  the 
old  man,  that  the  message  moved  him  greatly.  He  declined  to  attend,  and 
indicated  to  the  committee  who  waited  upon  him,  some  points  upon  which 
he  wished  for  authorities;  and  dismissed  them.  At  the  slavery  council  it 
was  decided  to  place  the  prosecution  in  the  hands  of  a  slave-holding  whig, 
to  lead  the  assault.  The  choice  fell  on  Thomas  F.  Marshall,  nephew  of  the 
chief  justice  of  that  name.  He  had  the  family  ability,  was  a  brilliant 
speaker,  and  emulous  of  the  place.  In  the  .presence  of  the  foreign  minis 
ters,  attaches,  and  privileged  persons,  and  the  crowd  always  ready  to  assem 
ble  at  the  capital,  the  House  the  next  day  opened.  The  preamble  to  the 


568  JOHN    OUINCY    ADAMS. 

resolutions  as  finally  offered  glorified  the  Union.  Mr.  Adams  had  offered 
the  greatest  possible  insult  to  the  people,  for  which  he  merited  expulsion. 
The  House  in  mercy  would  only  severely  censure,  and  leave  him  to  the 
indignation  of  his  countrymen. 

Mr.  Marshall  quite  met  the  occasion,  in  the  public  estimation.  He 
denounced  Mr.  Adams  as  a  traitor.  Mr.  Adams  arose,  was  recognized, 
asked  if  the  House  would  entertain  the  resolutions,  and  called  for  the  read 
ing  of  the  first  paragraph  of  the  declaration  of  independence.  It  was  read 
down  to  the  point  which  declared  the  power  to  abolish  or  change  a  govern 
ment,  when  it  failed  to  secure  the  true  ends  of  government.  He  then,  with 
severe  clearness,  pointed  out  the  wrongs  and  injustice  wrought  by  the 
government,  through  the  coalition  of  the  slaveholders  and  democrats,  and 
asserted  that  it  was  time  the  people  should,  by  petitions,  arouse  the  nation. 

Mr.  Everett,  of  Vermont,  moved  to  print  and  postpone  the  resolutions 
a  week.  Mr.  Wise  supported  the  resolutions  in  a  long  prepared  speech  of 
great  bitterness.  Adams  retorted  his  part  in  the  tragedy  of  the  Graves- 
Cilly  duel,  and  turned  on  Marshall  with  a  withering  speech  of  sarcasm  and 
ridicule,  recommending  him  to  go  back  to  his  books.  'Marshall,  as  if  in 
defiance,  arose  and  stood  facing  him.  A  hush  fell  on  the  thronged  House, 
as  the  old  man,  worked  up  to  his  greatest  power,  poured  on  him  mingled 
wrath,  scorn,  and  derision.  Then  he  turned  to  the  subject  matter  of 
debate.  Not  so  much  as  a  breath,  a  rustle,  was  heard.  Reporters  were 
charmed,  slaveholders  shed  tears.  When  he  took  his  seat,  Marshall 
remained  standing,  until  a  friend  recalled  him  to  the  consciousness  he  had 
lost.  Marshall  never  fully  recovered,  and  said  later,  to  John  Campbell,  that 
he  "would  rather  die  a  thousand  deaths  than  encounter  that  old  man." 
Giddings,  and  the  little  band  about  Mr.  Adams,  were  no  longer  anxious; 
and  the  whigs  of  the  north  began  to  gather  around  him.  Not  only  these, 
but  Mr.  Botts,  of  Virginia,  who  later  behaved  so  shabbily  in  Mr.  Giddings' 
case,  came  to  his  aid,  though  he  needed  none.  Marshall  again  addressed 
the  House,  preparing  the  way  to  a  retreat. 

January  3d,  Mr.  Gilmore  proposed  to  Mr.  Adams  to  withdraw  the 
petition  and  he  would  withdraw  the  resolutions  of  censure.  Mr.  Adams 
refused,  entered  upon  his  personal  defense,  and  spoke  the  rest  of  the  day, 
reviewing  his  past  course.  He  and  his  friends  justly  complained  of  the 
report  of  this  speech,  and  the  next  morning  he  demanded  a  delay,  until  a 
competent  reporter  could  be  procured.  Marshall  objected,  and  moved  the 
previous  question.  In  the  face  of  this  attempt  to  cut  him  off,  he  went  on. 
Dr.  Leavett  was  a  competent  reporter,  and  Giddings  smuggled  him  into  the 
House  to  take  down  the  speech.  The  slaveholders  had  him  turned  out,  and 
he  got  a  place  outside  the  bar.  The  southerners  were  so  incensed  that  they 
soon  called  Mr.  Adams  to  order.  The  speaker  sustained  him,  and  the  House, 
on  an  appeal,  sustained  the  chair.  Mr.  Adams  consumed  the  day,  without 


HIS    COURSE    ON    THE    SLAVERY    QUESTION.  ^) 

finishing.  As  he  was  about  to  resume  the  next  day,  a  Georgian  \vished  to 
know  how  much  time  it  would  require.  Mr.  Adams,  in  a  business  way, 
said  he  could  not  tell,  but  he  thought  "he  could  finish  in  ninety  (lavs" 
This  opened  new  views  to  the  prosecutors.  Mr.  Adams  had  used  the  most 
of  three  days  in  his  arraignment  of  slavery,  and  proposed  to  go  on  for  three 
months.  Mr.  Botts  intervened  with  a  motion  to  lay  the  whole  subject  on 
the  table.  This  prevailed — one  hundred  and  six  to  ninety-three,  and  so 
the  prosecution  ended  in  defeat  and  humiliation. 

The  resolutions  in  Mr.  Adams'  case  being  disposed  of,  the  question 
came  up  on  the  reception  of  the  petition  he  had  offered,  which  was  lost — 
forty  for  reception,  one  hundred  and  sixty-six  against  it.  Thereupon,  ?\Ir. 
Adams  being  still  fresh,  and  there  being  some  d.iylight  left,  worked  on  and 
presented  over  two  hundred  petitions  before  the  House  adjourned.  On  the 
1/j.th  of  March  following,  I).  I).  Barnard,  of  Xew  York,  presented  a  similar 
petition  to  that  of  Air.  Adams,  which  the  now  docile  House  disposed  of 
very  placidly. 

This  inglorious  defeat  of  slavery,  in  the  case  of  Mr.  .Adams,  had  tem 
porary  success  in  the  case  of  Mr.  Ciiddings.  In  the  famous  Creole  case  he 
offered  a  set  of  propositions,  somewhat  similar,  in  reply  to  Mr.  Calhoun's 
formula,  on  the  same  subject  matter  in  the  Senate.  lie  was  censured  without 
being  permitted  to  defend  himself,  resigned,  and  in  five  weeks  was  in  his 
seat  again  to  work  woe  on  his  enemies. 

The  Creole  case  stimulated  a  conspiracy  to  remove  Mr.  Adams  from  the 
head  of  the  committee  on  foreign  affairs,  and  replace  him  by  his  colleague, 
Caleb  Gushing.  On  the  collapse  of  the  resolution  of  censure  the  four 
southern  members  of  the  committee  asked  to  be  excused  from  further 
service  on  it,  because,  as  their  note  said,  the  House  might  not  remove  him, 
and  the}'  were  unwilling  to  serve  with  him.  The  House  excused  them  with 
a  shout  of  acclamation.  Others,  in  notes  personally  insulting  to  Mr. 
Adams,  refused  to  accept  the  vacant  places;  the  notes  were  published,  and  a 
gross  breach  of  privilege  perpetrated,  but  of  this  Mr.  Adams  took  no  notice. 


5/o  JOHN  QUINCY  AUAMS. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

LAST  YEARS  OF  MR.  ADAMS'  CONGRESSIONAL    SERVICE— STRICKEN  WITH    DEATH 
WHILE  AT  HIS  POST— SUMMARY. 

IT  will  be  remembered  that  Mr.  Adams  made  one  of  his  strongest 
speeches  against  the  admission  of  Texas,  in  the  earliest  years  of  the 
controversy,  placing  the  whole  subject  in  the  clearest  light.  The  agitation 
never  ceased.  Annexation  was  inevitable.  It  was  one  of  the  sources  of 
strength  to  the  growing  anti-slavery  sentiment  of  the  north.  The  Tyler 
administration  patched  up  a  hasty  treaty  of  annexation,  and  General  Jack 
son,  at  the  Hermitage,  signed  a  letter  urging  its  ratification  by  the  Senate. 
It  was  proposed  to  correlate  Texas  with  Oregon,  the  northern  boundary — 
50°  40' — of  which  Great  Britain  disputed.  Mr.  Webster,  secretary  of  state, 
gave  place  to  Mr.  Upshur,  who  was  soon  after  killed  by  the  explosion  of  a 
gun  on  the  war  steamer  Princeton,  and  Mr.  Calhoun  was  placed  at  the  head 
of  the  state  department.  The  treaty  of  annexation  was  his  work.  Mr. 
Benton  killed  that  project  in  the  Senate — beat  it  to  death,  southron  and 
slaveholder  as  he  was. 

The  presidential  election  was  at  hand,  and  parties  were  divided  on  the 
acquisition  of  Texas.  On  the  defeat  of  the  treaty,  Mr.  Tyler  sent  a  mes 
sage  to  the  two  houses,  asking  that  Texas  be  annexed  by  joint  resolution, 
which  question  was  debated  to  the  end  of  the  session,  and  in  which  Mr. 
Adams  bore  a  conspicuous  part.  In  this  condition  of  affairs,  a  presidential 
election  pending,  Mr.  Van  Buren,  the  prominent  candidate  for  democratic 
nomination,  wrote  a  sensible  letter  agairst  the  acquisition  of  Texas;  and  Polk 
was  nominated  in  his  stead.  The  democratic  cry  of  the  campaign  was : 
"Polk,  Texas,  and  the  tariff  of  1842," — passed  by  the  whigs.  Mr.  Clay  made 
a  speech  at  Raleigh,  wrote  a  letter  against  Texas,  and  was  nominated  by 
the  wHigs.  He  wrote  two  more  letters  on  Texas  during  the  canvass,  and 
was  beaten.  Mr.  Adams  cordially  supported  Mr.  Clay,  as  did  some  of  the 
few  pronounced  anti-slavery  whigs.  On  the  re-assembling  of  the  House,  a 


LAST    YEARS    OF    HIS    CONGRESSIONAL    SERVICE.  57 1 

close  canvass  showed  a  majority  of  thirty  against  the  annexation  scheme 
Mr.  Adams  had  no  confidence  in  the  opposition  of  any  democrat.  On  the 
final  vote  in  the  House,  February  28,  1845,  the  Senate  annexation  bill  passed 
by  a  vote  of  one  hundred  and  thirty-two  to  seventy-six.  A  cannon  on  the 
west  terrace  of  the  capital  announced  the  victory  to  the  city,  which  answered 
with  bonfires  and  revelry.  That  was  the  darkest  hour  ever  seen  on  the  west 
ern  continent  for  the  cause  of  freedom  and  justice.  The  recoil  against  slavery 
threw  man\-  strong  men  from  the  democracy  into  the  ranks  of  its  enemies, 
among  them  John  P.  Hall,  Preston  King,  and  Brinkerhoof.  Finally,  Con 
gress  rejected  the  "  Atherton  gag" — the  twenty- first  rule  was  rescinded. 
Against  this  Mr.  Adams  had  steadily  fought  since  its  adoption.  Steadily 
the  majority  for  it  diminished.  In  1842  it  was  but  four;  in  1843  it  was 
three  ;  in  1844,  the  battle  over  it  raged  for  weeks,  with  doubtful  result.  At 
the  next  attempt  Mr.  Adams'  motion  to  rescind  was  not  laid  on  the  table, 
by  a  vote  of  yeas  eighty-one,  and  one  hundred  and  four  nays.  On  the  final 
vote  his  motion  prevailed  by  one  hundred  and  eight  to  eighty.  It  was  a 
victory — a  great  victor)',  but  ho\v  barren.  The  next  petitions  for  the  aboli 
tion  of  slaver)',  were  referred  to  the  committee  on  the  District  of  Columbia, 
where  they  slept  as  profoundly  as  in  the  cavern  of  the  twenty-first  rule. 

The  next  battle  for  the  right  of  petition  was  over  the  election  of  the 
speaker,  mostly  after  Mr.  Adams'  departure.  If  men  had  a  right  to  petition, 
they  had  the  right  to  be  heard  and  decently  answered,  and  coming  from 
the  speaker's  hand,  that  depended  on  the  structure  of  the  committees.  Mr. 
Polk  announced  to  the  Twenty-ninth  Congress,  the  latest  democratic  pro 
gramme:  notice  to  Fngland  to  terminate  the  joint  occupancy  of  Oregon, 
a  delivery  of  the  whole,  or  war.  The  whigs  were  supine.  To  Mr.  Adams 
and  the  small  band  now  by  his  side  was  it  left  to  make  head  against  it.  The 
Senate  resolution  of  notice  to  Fngland  came  up  in  the  Senate,  February  5, 
1846.  Mr.  Giddings  took  the  floor,  and  declared  that  a  war  with  Fngland 
would  add  Canada  as  well  as  Oregon  to  the  free  north.  \Yar  with  Fngland 
meant  emancipation.  The  black  regiments  of  the  British  West  Indies  would 
land  on  the  helpless  southern  shores,  and  slave  insurrection  ana  rapine  fol 
low.  Mr.  Adams  followed  in  a  speech  equal  to  his  old  efforts,  though  now 
enfeebled.  He  put  forth  his  old  doctrine — that  under  the  war  power,  as  a 
means  of  war,  aggressive  or  defensive,  slaver}'  could  be  abolished.  This  he 
announced  as  earl}' as  1835;  and  he  had  brought  it  forward  once  or  twice 
since.  On  this  occasion  he  declared  himself  in  favor  of  holding  the  whole 
of  Oregon.  The  south  recoiled  with  horror.  Not  long  after,  Great  Britain 
offered  the  forty-ninth  parallel,  and  Mr.  Polk  made  haste  to  accept  it. 

General  Taylor  was  sent  to  take  possession  of  Texas,  passed  into  Mexico, 
found  General  Am  pud  in  and  a  Mexican  arm}',  and  fought  the  battles  of  the 
8th  and  9th  of  Ma}'.  Then  followed  the  whole  miserable  war,  lasting  beyond 
Mr.  Adams,  who.  as  counsellor  and  adviser,  still  kept  his  place  at  the  head, 


5/2  JOHN    OUIXCY    ADAMS. 

though  he  now  seldom  mingled  in  debate.  His  last  speech  was  made  in 
March,  1847.  It  was  in  reference  to  his  old  clients,  the  negroes  of  the 
Amistad,  who'had  gone  home.  Mr.  Giddings  detected  in  an  appropriation 
bill — smuggled  in  by  a  Senate  amendment — an  item  of  fifty  thousand  dollars, 
to  pay  Montez  and  Ruaz  for  the  men  whom  the  supreme  court  had  decided 
were  not  slaves,  which  rider  he  assailed  on  the  floor  of  the  House.  It 
aroused  Mr.  Adams  to  his  old  battle  fury — the  trumpet  call  to  the  old  knight 
in  armor,  and  he  flashed  out  with  all  his  wonted  vigor  and  wrath.  Members 
left  their  seats,  reporters  dropped  their  pens,  and  all  gathered  round  him. 
When  he  closed,  the  Senate  amendment  was  rejected  by  the  House  unani 
mously.  It  was  the  last  speech  of  the  "old  man  eloquent."  He  was  to 
linger  for  yet  nearly  a  year,  with  impaired  strength. 

Fierce  hater,  warrior,  and  hard  hitter  though  he  was,  and  ever  in  strife, 
yet  intensely  sincere  and  of  immaculate  purity  of  character  and  conduct,  it 
is  not  to  be  supposed  that  his  better  qualities  were  not  recognized  in  all 
these  years,  even  by  his  enemies;  none  of  whom,  as  it  would  seem,  but  pro 
foundly  respected  while  they  hated  him.  In  time  this  respect,  in  view  of 
his  lone  life  and  eminent  service,  came  to  be  a  reverence,  which  uncon- 

o 

sciously  manifested  itself  in  various  striking  ways.  On  one  memorable 
occasion  he  was  enabled  by  his  position,  and  the  possession  of  qualities 
which  marked  him  as  a  leader  and  a  ruler  of  men,  to  perform  an  eminent 
service  to  the  House  itself,  and  to  the  country  at  large.  It  was  an  emer 
gency  in  which  overruling  devotion  to  party  had  involved  the  House  while  an 
inorganic  body,  and  so,  in  parliamentary  language,  not  a  House — in  a  chaotic 
condition,  from  which  no  opening  was  apparent,  and  the  country  was  greatly 
alarmed  by  it.  Men  whose  memories  cover  forty-three  years  of  political  his 
tory  can  vividly  recall  the  New  Jersey  contested  election  case.  The  demo 
cratic  power  was  waning  and  that  of  the  whigs  increasing.  The  parties  had 
nearly  reached  a  point  of  equilibrium  in  the  House,  and  a  few  votes  passed 
from  one  party  to  the  other  would  change  the  majority.  The  Constitution 
and  statutes  were  silent  as  to  the  method  of  organizing  the  House  on  the  con 
vocation  of  a  new  Congress.  The  usage  was  to  leave  the  matter  largely  in 
the  hands  of  the  clerk  of  the  last  House  ;  who  was  for  all  purposes  out  of 
office,  and  had  no  real  power  in  the  premises.  He  made  up  the  list  of  mem 
bers-elect,  and  called  the  roll.  Members  whose  terms  held  over  took  upon 
themselves  the  power  and  duty  of  organizing  the  House.  It  had  also  been 
a  rule  to  recognize  such  claimants  to  seats,  and  such  alone  as  came  authen 
ticated  by  the  authorities  of  the  state  they  claimed  to  represent.  This  was 
a  priina  facie  title,  resting  on  more  than  usage.  The  Congressional  elec 
tion  in  New  Jersey  for  1838  was  by  general  ticket.  It  was  close.  Both 
parties  claimed  the  victory;  the  state  government  was  in  the  hands  of  the 
whigs,  and  they  gave  the  certificate  and  seal  of  election  to  the  whig  claim 
ants.  The  democrats  made  such  inferior  showing  as  they  could  secure,  and 


LAST    YEARS    OF    HIS    CONGRESSIONAL    SERVICE.  573 

December,  1839,  saw  both  parties  at  the  capitol,  claiming  seats.  The  party 
that  secured  them  would  control  the  House.  The  duty  of  the  clerk  was 
plain.  The  whigs  should  have  been  placed  on  his  roll.  They  alone  had 
evidence  of  election  that  he  or  anybody  short  of  the  organized  House  could 
examine  or  go  behind.  He  was  a  democrat,  and  chose  to  blunder  in  favor 
of  his  party.  He  placed  one  whig  on  the  list,  and  said,  as  to  the  five  others 
their  seats  were  contested.  He  omitted  them.  When  the  House  should  be 
rrganized  it  could  deal  with  them.  In  the  temper  of  the  times,  and  the 
importance  of  the  matter  involved,  both  of  the  great  parties  were  in  array, 
ready  to  fight  out  the  impending  battle  to  any  result.  Acrimonious  debate 
ran  through  the  first  day.  A  motion  was  made  to  adjourn.  The  clerk  said 
he  had  no  power  to  put  it  or  do  any  act,  save  make  and  call  the  roll ;  and 
the  members  adjourned  themselves  by  consent. 

The  next  morning  Mr.  Garland,  the  clerk,  whose  re-election  depended 
on  the  success  of  his  programme,  undertook  to  read  an  explanatory  note, 
and  the  clay  was  spent  in  discussing  his  right  to  do  that.  He  again  declined 
to  put  a  motion  to  adjourn,  and  the  members  dispersed  as  before.  The 
next  day  was  spent  in  vain  wrangles,  no  light  appearing  from  any  quarter. 
Ln  this  condition  the  thoughts  and  eyes  of  all  men  turned  to  Mr.  Adams. 
Leading  men  of  both  sides  earnestly  besought  him  to  interfere  and  extricate 
them.  He  was  reluctant  to  mix  in  the  disgraceful  squabble,  and  nothing 
but  the  gravest  apprehension  of  possible  consequences  induced  him  so  to  do. 
When  for  the  first  time  he  arose,  on  the  5th  of  December,  his  rising  was 
greeted  as  the  advent  of  a  superior  power.  "Fellow  citizens — members- 
elect  of  the  twenty-sixth  Congress!  "  was  his  address,  with  his  back  to  Mr. 
Clerk  Garland,  whom  he  excoriated  before  resuming  his  seat.  He  told  the 
House  to  organize  itself.  He  then  offered  a  resolution  ordering  the  clerk  to 
call  the  members  from  Xe\v  Jersey  who  possessed  credentials  from  the 
governor  of  the  state.  The  puzzling  cry  went  up,  "  How  shall  the  question 
be  put?"  "I  will  put  it  myself,"  was  the  prompt  reply.  A  tumult  of 
applause  greeted  the  declaration.  The  members  recognized  a  man  here. 
Rhett,  of  South  Carolina,  moved  that  Williams,  of  North  Carolina,  be 
chairman  of  the  meeting.  Williams  substituted  the  name  of  Mr.  Adams. 
He  was  elected  with  a  shout  ;  and  Rhett  and  Williams  conducted  him  to 
the  chair.  Afterward  Wise,  of  Virginia,  addressed  a  speech  of  compliment 
to  him  fpr  his  prompt  response,  "  I  will  put  the  question  myself."  The 
south  behaved  handsomely  toward  their  great  enemy  on  this  occasion. 
Even  with  Mr.  Adams  in  the  chair,  with  no  more  power  than  attaches  to 
the  presiding  officer  of  any  informal  body  without  rules,  the  struggle  for  the 
control  of  the  future  House  was  long  and  bitter.  The  issue  was  decided 
December  i6th,  by  the  election  of  R.  M.  T.  Hunter,  of  Virginia,  as  speaker. 
There  was  talk  of  a  vote  of  thanks  to  Mr.  Adams.  He  did  not  wish  it.  It 
would  have  led  to  acrimonious  debate,  in  the  embittered  feeling  of  the 


574  JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS. 

democracy,  who  lost   the  speakership,  with  all  its  advantages,  precursor  of 
the  greater  defeat  so  soon  to  follow. 

At  the  best,  the  career  of  Mr.  Adams  was  dreary.  He  performed  his 
tasks  sternly,  rather  than  cheerfully.  There  is  found  in  his  diary  of  1835, 
a  list  of  the  public  men  of  that  day,  whom  he  regarded  as  personal  enemies, 
which  included  nearly  all  the  most  eminent  of  that  time;  to  most  of  whom 
he  had  been  of  service.  His  complaint  was,  that  the  best  acts  of  his  life 
made  him  enemies,  and  subjected  him  to  obloquy.  His  diary  was  the  great 
depository  of  his  woes  and  enmities.  He  himself  said  that  the  last  years  of 
his  life  were  spent  in  paying  for  the  success  of  his  early  career,  brightened 
as  they  were  by  several  unconscious  marks  of  confidence — of  veneration  by 
the  members  of  the  House,  though  less  striking  than  in  the  New  Jersey  case. 
Mr.  Adams  feared  a  failure  of  health  in  1833;  m  ^42  he  thought  the 
ensuing  session  would  be  his  last  in  the  House.  In  March,  two  years  later, 
he  drew  a  pitiful  picture  of  his  physical  condition.  November  ipth,  he  was 
struck  with  paralysis  in  Boston,  but  recovered.  Three  months  later,  when 
he  entered  the  House,  all  the  members  arose  spontaneously ;  business  was 
suspended  ;  his  old  seat  surrendered,  and  the  members  conducted  him  to  it. 
Though  punctual  in  attendance,  he  took  no  part  in  the  debates.  February 
21,  1848,  he  was  in  his  seat.  At  a  little  after  I,  as  the  speaker  arose  to  put  a 
question,  he  was  arrested  by  cries — "Stop!  stop  ! — Mr.  Adams! !  "  Those 
near  the  old  man  thought  he  attempted  to  rise  as  if  to  claim  the  speaker's 
attention.  In  an  instant  he  fell  unconscious.  Members  thronged  about  him. 
The  House  adjourned.  He  was  carried  to  the  speaker's  room,  where  he  lay 
in  his  last  fieht.  Some  almost  inarticulate  words  in  the  late  afternoon  were 

o 

heard  and  translated — "The  last  of  earth."     He  passed  quietly  away  early 
in  the  evening  of  the  23d. 

Mr.  Adams  performed  much  Congressional  work  not  here  referred  to. 
He  contributed  largely  to  the  establishment  of  the  Smithsonian  institute ; 
was  industrious  on  committees  ;  managed  a  large  correspondence  ;  received 
throngs  of  visitors  ;  read  three  chapters  of  the  Bible  daily,  and  carried  for 
ward  his  colossal  diary,  the  published  portions  of  which,  edited  by  his  son, 
constituted  twelve  large  volumes.  Beyond  this  he  was  an  inveterate  versi 
fier,  composing  with  facility.  In  addition  to  the  literary  work  already  referred 
to,  while  in  Berlin,  he  translated  Wieland's  Oberon,  and  later  wrote  a  series 
of  letters  of  travel  in  Germany,  which  were  published  in  London,  and  trans 
lated  into  French,  and  also  into  German.  While  in  the  Senate  he  was  also 
professor  of  rhetoric  at  Harvard,  and  a  volume  of  his  lectures,  long  since 
neglected,  were  printed  in  1810.  While  minister  to  Russia  he  wrote  a  series 
of  letters,  to  his  son,  upon  the  Bible  and  its  teachings,  a  pious  work,  as  a 
labor  of  love,  otherwise  not  greatly  esteemed.  As  we  know,  he  com 
menced  a  biography  of  his  father,  and  wrote  a  poem  descriptive  of  the 
conquest  of  Ireland.  In  addition  to  his  other  labors,  he  delivered  many 


HIS    DEATH — SUMMARY.  5/5 

addresses  ar,-d  lectures.  The  following  may  be  taken  as  a  specimen  of  his 
labors.  He  started  from  Boston  one  Monday  morning  to  attend  the  opening 
of  Congress.  That  evening  he  delivered  an  address  before  the  Young 
Men's  institute  in  Hartford,  Connecticut,  the  next  evening  another  to  the 
young  men  of  New  Haven.  On  Wednesday  evening  he  lectured  before  a 
New  York  lyceum.  Thursday  evening  he  delivered  an  address  in  Brooklyn. 
Friday  another  lecture  in  New  York  ;  and  thence  on  to  Washington  to  be 
at  the  House  the  following  Monday.  Opposition  to  slavery  by  no  means 
absorbed  his  attention,  or  claimed  his  entire  time.  He  kept  abreast  with  his 
time  in  the  advance  of  science,  and  was  familiar  with  later  ideas  of  the  newer 
and  younger  men. 

Like  many  strong  natures,  Mr.  Adams  was  reverent.  He  was  a  pro 
found  worshiper,  and  regulated  his  life  by  the  precepts  of  religion  ;  was  by 
constitution  austere  in  his  observances  of  them,  never  occasioning  a  suspicion 
of  his  intense  sincerity.  Mentally,  Mr.  Adams  was  the  more  forcible  as  a 
speaker.  He  was  a  fluent  writer.  It  is  said  his  manuscript  showed  few 
erasures  ;  his  style  verbose,  a  little  in  the  manner  of  pre-revolutionary  times. 
He  had  not  the  idiomatic  simplicity  and  elegance  of  his  father,  nor  had  he 
his  father's  wit  and  sparkle,  though  a  master  of  sarcasm  and  invective.  His 
father  was  apt  to  indulge  in  fine  philosophical  generalization  entirely  foreign 
to  the  younger,  who  had  not  a  particle  of  humor,  nor  any  conception  of  its 
cause  or  effects.  He  could  never  see  anything  in  Falstaff,  nor  his  attend 
ants,  Bardolph  and  Pistol.  In  intellectual  structure,  as  in  person,  he  re 
sembled  his  father,  with  more  learning  and  less  genius.  In  indomitable 
will,  unshrinking  courage,  energy,  and  perseverance,  he  was  the  equal  of  any 
man  in  history,  as  in  power  of  continuous,  hard,  dogged  labor.  Both  father 
and  son  will  always  be  held  up  as  embodiments  of  the  essential  life,  spirit, 
and  mind,  of  the  New  England  of  their  times.  They  could  have  been  pro 
duced  nowheie  else,  or  in  no  other  period.  In  many  respects  the  younger 
was  the  more  fortunate.  Both  rendered  large  measures  of  public  service; 
both  as  disinterestedly  patriotic  and  pure  in  public  and  private  morals 
as  any  of  the  leading  figures  in  history.  The  early  part  of  John  Q. 
.Adams'  life  was  fortunate,  the  last  brilliant  and  illustrious  ;  yet  there  are 
those  who  regard  it  on  the  whole  as  less  satisfactory.  Both  were  prudent 
housekeepers,  managing  their  private  affairs  with  skill — family  traits  which 
survive  them — and  both  left  handsome  estates. 

John  Quincy  Adams  lies  buried  under  the  portal  »f  the  church  at 
Quincy,  where  by  his  side  his  wife  was  laid  four  years  later.  No  man  in 
American  history  in  his  lifetime  was  more  maligned  or  so  little  appreciated. 
As  he  recedes  in  the  distance,  and  falls  under  the  law  of  perspective,  the 
harsh,  unlovely  lines  of  his  character,  that  gave  tone  to  the  malevolence  of 
his  day,  disappear,  and  he  rises  on  the  horizon  more  distinct  and  conspicu 
ous,  justly  regarded  as  one  of  the  greatest  and  most  discerning  of  men. 


576  JOHN  QUINCY  ADAMS. 

While  glimpses  have  been  given  here  and  there  of  the  oratorical  powers 
of  John  Quincy  Adams,  no  extended  extract  from  any  of  his  many  public 
addresses  has  been  attempted.  As  illustrating  his  mode  of  thought,  his 
force  of  expression  and  patriotic  sentiment,  this  brief  sketch  of  his  career 
can  be  closed  in  no  more  fitting  manner  than  the  presentation  of  the  fol 
lowing  extract  from  one  of  his  best  known  public  speeches:*  "The 
convention  was  held  at  Annapolis  in  September  of  that  year.  It  was 
attended  by  delegates  from  only  five  of  the  central  states,  who,  on  com 
paring  their  restricted  powers  with  the  glaring  and  universally  acknowl 
edged  defects  of  the  confederation,  reported  only  a  recommendation  for 
the  assemblage  of  another  convention  of  delegates  to  meet  at  Philadelphia 
in  May,  1787,  from  all  the  states  and  with  enlarged  powers. 

"The  Constitution  of  the  United  States  was  the  work  of  this  conven 
tion.  But  in  its  construction  the  convention  immediately  perceived  that 
they  must  retrace  their  steps,  and  fall  back  from  a  league  of  friendship 
between  sovereign  states  to  the  constituent  sovereignty  of  the  people  ; 
from  power  to  right ;  from  the  irresponsible  despotism  of  state  sovereignty 
to  the  self-evident  truths  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence.  In  that 
instrument  the  right  to  institute  and  to  alter  governments  among  men  was 
ascribed  exclusively  to  the  people — the  ends  of  government  were  declared 
to  be  to  secure  the  natural  rights  of  man  ;  and  that  when  the  government 
degenerates  from  the  promotion  to  the  destruction  of  that  end,  the  right 
and  the  duty  accrues  to  the  people  to  dissolve  this  degenerate  govern 
ment  and  to  institute  another.  The  signers  of  the  declaration  further 
averred  that  the  one  people  of  the  United  Colonies  were  then  precisely  in 
that  situation — with  a  government  degenerated  into  tyranny,  and  called 
upon  by  the  laws  of  nature  and  of  nature's  God  to  dissolve  that  govern 
ment  and  to  institute  another.  Then  in  the  name  and  by  the  authority 
of  the  good  people  of  the  colonies,  they  pronounced  the  dissolution  of 
their  allegiance  to  the  king  and  their  eternal  separation  from  the  nation  of 
Great  Britain,  and  declared  the  united  colonies  independent  states.  And 
here,  as  the  representatives  of  the  one  people  they  had  stopped.  They 
did  not  require  the  confirmation  of  this  act,  for  the  power  to  make  the 
declaration  had  already  been  conferred  upon  them  by  the  people,  dele 
gating  the  power,  indeed,  separately  in  the  separate  colonies,  not  by 
colonial  authority,  but  by  the  spontaneous  revolutionary  movement  of 
the  people  in  them  all.  .  .  . 

"The  convention  assembled  at  Philadelphia  had  themselves  no  direct 
authority  from  the  people  ;  but  they  had  the  articles  of  confederation 
before  them,  and  they  saw  and  felt  the  wretched  condition  into  which 
they  had  brought  the  whole  people,  and  that  the  Union  itself  was  in  the 
agonies  of  death.  ...  A  constitution  for  the  people  and  the  distribution 

"  The  Jubilee  of  the  Constitution."     Delivered  in  New  York  on  April  30,  1839. 


THE    PHILADELPHIA    CONVENTION. 


577 


of  legislative,  executive  and  judicial  powers  was  prepared.  It  announced 
itself  as  ihe  work  of  the  people  themselves  ;  and  as  this  was  unquestiona 
bly  a  power  assumed  by  the  convention,  not  delegated  to  them  by  the 
people,  they  religiously  confined  it  to  a  simple  power  to  propose,  and 
carefully  provided  that  it  should  be  no  more  than  a  proposal  until  sanc 
tioned  by  the  Confederation  congress,  by  the  state  legislatures,  and  by  the 
people  of  the  several  states  in  conventions  specially  assembled,  by 
authority  of  their  legislatures,  for  the  single  purpose  of  examining  and 
passing  upon  it. 

"  And  thus  was  consummated  the  work  commenced  by  the  Declaration 
of  Independence — a  work  in  which  the  people  of  the  North  American 
Union,  acting  under  the  deepest  sense  of  responsibility  to  the  Supreme 
Ruler  of  the  universe,  had  achieved  the  most  transcendent  act  of  power 
that  social  man  in  his  mortal  condition  can  perform — even  that  of  dis 
solving  the  ties  of  allegiance  by  which  he  is  bound  to  his  country  ;  of 
renouncing  that  country  itself;  of  demolishing  its  government  ;  of  institut 
ing  another  government,  and  of  making  for  himself  another  country  in  its 
stead. 

"And  on  that  day,  of  which  you  now  commemorate  the  fiftieth  anni 
versary  on  that  thirtieth  day  of  April,  one  thousand  seven  hundred  and 
eighty-nine,  was  this  mighty  revolution,  not  only  in  the  affairs  of  our 
country  but  in  the  principles  of  government  over  civilized  man,  accom 
plished. 

"The  Revolution  itself  was  a  work  of  thirteen  years,  and  had  never 
been  completed  until  that  day.  The  Declaration  of  Independence  and  the 
Constitution  of  the  United  States  are  parts  of  one  consistent  whole, 
founded  upon  one  and  the  same  theory  of  government,  then  new,  not  as  a 
theory,  for  it  had  been  working  itself  into  the  mind  of  man  for  many 
ages,  and  had  been  especially  expounded  in  the  writings  of  Locke,  but 
had  never  before  been  adopted  by  a  great  nation  in  practice. 

"There  are  yet,  even  at  this  day,  many  speculative  objections  to  this 
theory.  Even  in  our  own  country  there  are  still  philosophers  who  deny 
the  principles  asserted  in  the  declaration  as  self-evident  truths  ;  who  deny 
the  natural  equality  an  inalienable  right  of  man  ;  who  deny  that  the  peo 
ple  are  the  only  legitimate  source  of  power  ;  who  deny  that  all  just  powers 
of  government  are  derived  from  the  consent  of  the  governed.  Neither 
your  time  nor  perhaps  the  cheerful  nature  of  this  occasion  permit  me 
here  to  enter  upon  the  examination  of  this  anti-revolutionary  theory, 
which  arrays  state  sovereignty  against  the  constituent  sovereignty  of  the 
people,  and  distorts  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States  into  a  league  of 
friendship  between  Confederate  corporations.  I  speak  to  matters  of  fact. 
There  is  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  and  there  is  the  Constitution 
of  the  United  States — let  them  speak  for  themselves.  The  grossly 


5/8  JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS. 

immoral  and  dishonest  doctrine  of  despotic  state  sovereignty,  the  exclu 
sive  judge  of  its  own  obligations,  and  responsible  to  no  power  on  earth  or 
in  heaven  for  the  violation  of  them,  is  not  there.  The  Declaration  says, 
'  It  is  not  in  me  !  '  The  Constitution  says,  '  It  is  not  in  me  T  ' 


l£B~ill  -i  Sorj,  2":.~  - 


ANDREW  JACKSON. 


CHAPTER  I. 

BIRTH,   EDUCATION,  AND  EARLY  POLITICAL  SERVICE. 

NO  ONE  of  all  the  men  who  have  attained  political  prominence  in 
America,  presents  a  character  so  difficult  to  describe  by  generaliza* 
tion  as  does  Andrew  Jackson,  seventh  President  of  the  United  States. 
He  was  everything  in  a  measure;  nothing  throughout.  One  might  call 
him  a  great  general, — if  military  success  in  a  limited  field  could  justify  the 
use  of  that  adjective,  yet  the  term  calls  for  limitation  in  the  light  of  facts  ; 
one  might  call  him  a  demagogue,  yet  he  was  not  altogether  such;  a  Caesar, 
did  he  not  often  startle  us  by  some  unexpected  act  of  right  and  justice, 
diametrically  opposed  to  his  own  interest,  only  to  anon  upset  our  new  theory 
of  disinterestedness  and  patriotism,  by  some  high-handed  and  arbitrary 
assumption, — some  exhibition  of  personal  pique,  some  irrational  revenge. 
He  would  cling  to  a  bad  policy,  or  a  bad  minister,  in  the  face  of  the  most 
unquestionable  proof,  if  his  personal  feeling  were  enlisted  in  behalf  of  the 
man,  or  of  the  measure;  he  would  reject  good  counsel  and  the  wiser 
course,  with  equal  insistance  if  pique,  or  amour  proprc  moved  him  in  such 
a  direction.  He  was  a  man,  the  appreciation  of  whom  calls  for  a  minute 
personal  knowledge,  for  a  very  careful  study  of  the  questions  and  issues  of 
the  time,  and  for  a  separate  and  distinct  examination  of  the  influences  which 
determined  his  action  in  each  matter  which  came  before  him,  for  the  reason 
that  personal  feelings  and  temporary  influences  were  so  far  potent  in  deter 
mining  his  course,  as  to  set  theory  at  defiance  and  apparently  warrant  the 
student  in  assuming  an  almost  complete  lack  of  political  principle. 

S79 


580  ANDREW    JACKSON. 

Jackson  came  from  a  family,  and  grew  up  amid  an  environment,  most 
unpromising  for  the  production  of  a  President,  to  say  nothing  of  a  well  dis 
ciplined  thinker  or  a  statesman.  His  father,  Andrew  Jackson,  was  an  igno 
rant  Irish  immigrant,  who  came  to  America  in  1765,  and  settled  in  Mecklen 
burg  county,  North  Carolina,  very  near  the  line  of  South  Carolina.  He 
brought  with  him  a  wife  and  family,  but  had  no  capital,  and  never  obtained 
a  foothold  upon  the  soil.  Andrew  Jackson,  the  son,  was  born  March  15, 
1767,  within  a  few  days  of  his  father's  death  ;  where  he'was  born, — on  which 
side  of  the  line  dividing  North  Carolina  from  South  Carolina,  .has  been  a  sub 
ject  of  disagreement  among  historians  and  biographers,  but  we  have  the  best 
of  hearsay  evidence; — that  of  Jackson  himself, — for  assigning  South  Carolina 
as  the  scene  of  that  event,  he  having  so  declared  it  in  at  least  one  proclama 
tion,  in  letters,  and  in  his  will. 

After  the  death  of  her  husband,  Jackson's  mother  abandoned  her  home, 
and,  according  to  the  inference  of  one  writer,*  depended  for  a  support  very 
largely  during  his  childhood,  upon  the  assistance  of  relatives  scarcely  less 
poor  than  she.  The  details  of  that  childhood  are  among  the  thousands 
upon  thousands  of  unrecorded  annals  of  the  poor.  It  was  hard  and  bare ; 
luxuries  were  scarcely  missed,  for  they  had  never  been  known ;  sometimes, 
doubtless,  there  was  actual  scarcity  of  food  and  clothing,  in  the  little  cabin 
of  the  poor  Irish  widow.  Of  book  education  there  was  little;  of  mental 
discipline,  in  the  true  sense,  less  ;  of  refining  influence,  none.  Go  among  the 
common  Irish  squatters  in  any  rural  district  where  such  can  be  found,  and 
you  will  see  at  work  upon  ragged,  ill-kept,  dirty  urchins,  the  influences  that 
formed  the  habits  and  character  of  the  seventh  President.  The  first  object  of 
every  individual  is  to  sustain  life  ;  there  is  no  respect  for,  or  knowledge  of 
the  amenities  of  society;  little  regard  for  the  feelings  or  opinion  of  one  who 
has  not  the  physical  strength  to  give  them  sanction.  In  the  absence  of 
regard  for  mental  refinement  and  moral  beauty,  there  grows  up  an  inordinate 
admiration  for  this  brute  force;  a  pricle  in  sustaining  one's  position  not  in  the 
forum,  but  in  the  arena;  a  spirit  that  may  inspire  a  Jackson,  but  can  never 
produce  an  Adams  or  a  Jefferson. 

Nowhere  in  America  was  there  more  bitter  feeling,  during  the  war 
of  the  Revolution,  than  in  the  primitive  and  rude  community  where  Andrew 
Jackson  and  his  young  brothers  were  growing  up.  Every  man  was  a  parti 
san  ;  most  were  actually  engaged  upon  one  or  the  other  side  of  the  contest. 
The  deadly  hatred  of  whigs  for  tories,  and  tories  for  whigs ;  of  neighbor  for 
neighbor,  sometimes  of  brother  for  brother,  quite  obscured  the  original 
cause  of  quarrel  and  made  the  feeling  between  the  principal  combatants 
seem  mild  by  comparison.  The  history  of  the  repeated  expeditions  of  the 
British  into  the  mountains  of  the  Carolinas,  their  ill-founded  hope  for  a  gen- 

*  Life  of  Andrew  Jackson,  by  William  Graham  Sumner. 


BIRTH,     EDUCATION,     AND    EARLY    POLITICAL    SERVICE.  581 

eral  uprising  in  their  behalf,  and  the  determined  efforts  to  that  end,  has 
already  been  told.*  Andrew  Jackson  had  at  that  time  two  brothers.  Upon 
one  of  these  periodical  visits  of  the  British  every  effort  was  made  to  draw 
the  sturdy  Irish  boys  into  the  ranks.  However  this  might  have  otherwise 
resulted,  a  single  incident  was  sufficient  to  change  the  face  of  the  whole 
matter.  The  three  boys  were  at  the  British  camp,  when  an  officer  arro 
gantly  ordered  Andrew  to  brush  his  boots;  with  the  instinctive  independ 
ence  and  aversion  to  servility  which  even  at  that  time  had  penetrated  to 
most  unlikely  quarters  and  among  most  unlikely  people,  Jackson  refused; 
a  blow  was  his  reward  and  another  his  answer  ;  the  officer  then  drew  his 
sword,  severely  wounded  the  unarmed  stripling,  ordered  himself  and  his 
brothers  into  confinement,  and  the  three  were  marched  to  Camden  as  pris 
oners  of  war.  Both  his  brothers  died  before  the  war  was  over;  the  warm 
Irish  heart  of  the  lonely  mother  moved  her,  though  she  could  do  nothing 
for  her  own  boys,  to  aid  others  in  as  sad  a  plight,  and  she  set  out  upon  the 
weary  journey  to  Charleston,  to  offer  her  services  as  nurse  for  the  American 
prisoners  there.  Upon  the  way  she  died,  and  when  Andrew  obtained  his 
liberty  he  found  himself  absolutely  alone  in  the  world, — and  all  on  account 
of  Great  Britain.  It  is  characteristic  of  the  man,  that,  from  that  time,  he 
entertained  a  bitter  personal  hatred  for  everything  British,  as  bitter  and 
implacable  as  if  the  war  had  been  distinctly  and  solely  directed  at  the 
destruction  of  his  kindred  and  the  desolation  of  his  home. 

There  is  no  survival  of  detail  regarding  his  life  at  that  time, — how  he 
supported  himself  or  where  he  lived.  All  that  can  be  asserted  is  that  he 
essayed  the  saddler's  trade  and,  in  the  year  1/84,  deserted  it  for  the  study 
of  the  law.  It  is  a  common  thing  to  encounter,  in  the  pages  of  the  world's 
biography,  stories  of  men  who  seemed  consecrated  in  the  cradle  to  great 
ness  ;  who  lisped  in  poetic  numbers,  who  drilled  their  school-fellows  in 
arms,  or  who,  when  in  knickerbockers,  deserted  the  sports  of  their  carnal- 
minded  fellows,  to  address  imaginary  senates  and  juries;  men  who  chafed 
under  the  narrow  and  sordid  restraints  of  poverty  and  determined  with 
unnatural  precocity,  to  tread  the  narrow  and  thorny  path  to  greatness, 
though  feet  might  bleed  and  hands  be  torn  and  blistered. 

Jackson  was  no  such  man.  He  did  not  exercise  any  great  amount  of 
self  denial  ;  he  had  none  of  the  fire  of  aspiring  genius  ;  he  had  no  marked 
talent  for  the  law,  and  never  practiced  enough  to  test  the  limits  of  his  abil 
ity.  His  stubborn  devotion  to  his  own  ideas  and  his  blind  partisanship 
might  have  made  him  a  successful  advocate, — they  are  assuredly  the  dis 
tinguishing  characteristics  of  the  ideal  pettifogger, — but  he  had  none  of  the 
mental  qualities  of  the  broad  and  scientific  lawyer.  There  were  none  of  the 
self-contained,  studious,  and  philosophical  qualities  about  Jackson,  during  the 

*See  Life  of  Washington;  ante. 


582  ANDREW    JACKSON. 

time  of  his  law  studies,  that  distinguish  the  budding  days  of  great  and  well- 
biographied  men.  He  preferred  a  well  contested  cock  fight,  or  a  close 
horse  race,  to  the  finest  distinctions  of  the  text  writers  ;  and  a  decided  pen 
chant  for  the  bar  of  the  rustic  tavern,  drew  him  long  and  often  from  his 
closet.  In  fact,  he  studied  law  because  he  believed  he  could  make  money 
faster  and  easier  as  a  lawyer,  than  in  stitching  traces  or  stuffing  horse  collars, 
and,  perhaps,  because  he  saw  in  the  law  a  means  of  attaining  the  still  greater 
ease  and  emolument  of  .official  station.  These  words  may  sound  somewhat 
hard  and  unjust,  but  they  represent  the  truth  of  history  as  nearly  as  it  may 
be  gathered  from  the  scanty  records  which  exist.  Sumner  goes  so  far  as  to 
say  :  "He  never  learned  any  law,  and  never,  to  the  end  of  his  life,  had  a 
legal  tone  of  mind  ;  even  his  admirer,  Kendall,  admits  this.  His  study  of 
the  law  had  no  influence  on  his  career,  and  no  significance  for  his  character, 
except  that  it  shows  him  following  the  set  or  fashion  of  the  better  class  of 
young  men  of  his  generation.  If  conjecture  may  be  allowed,  it  is  most 
probable  that  he  did  not  get  on  well  with  his  relatives,  and  that  he  disliked 
the  drudgery  of  farming  or  saddle  making." 

The  time  was  not  far  distant  when  Jackson  was  to  exchange  his  rude 
life  and  associations  for  those  still  more  rough,  in  the  farther  west.  In  1/88, 
a  friend  of  Jackson,  John  McNairy,  was  appointed  judge  of  the  superior 
court  of  the  western  district  of  North  Carolina,  from  which  the  state  of  Ten 
nessee  was  later  erected,  and  appointed  Jackson  prosecuting  attorney.  His 
life  in  this  half-savage  community,  though  not  in  itself  of  great  significance,  is 
worthy  of  more  than  passing  notice  as  furnishing  the  second  of  a  series  of 
formative  influences,  which  combined  to  determine  one  of  the  strongest 
and  most  anomalous  characters  in  the  history  of  America.  Again  to  bor 
row  the  ideas,  though  not  the  words,  of  Sumner  :  the  condition  of  society 
upon  the  frontiers  was  far  from  the  best.  The  rude  men  who  formed  the 
society,  and  about  whose  character  and  achievements,  poets,  novelists,  and 
historians  of  the  imaginative  school  have  united  to  cast  a  veil  of  false  ideas, 
were  demoralized,  if  not  debased.  They  encountered  the  rude  forces  of 
nature  in  light  array,  and,  surrendering  the  privileges  of  civilization,  they 
cast  off  in  large  degree,  its  wholesome  restraints  as  well.  Legitimate  amuse 
ment  could  not  be  obtained,  and  they  turned  from  the  arduous  duties  of  the 
day,  to  the  gaming-table,  the  cock-pit,  and  the  bar-room.  The  excitement 
which  busy  men  in  the  city  draw  from  commercial  and  professional 
struggles  was  lacking ;  men  crave  stimulation  as  wild  deer,  salt,  and  these 
men  found  it  in  the  bottle.  Intellectual  exercise  was  usually  beyond  their 
ability;  always  beyond  their  reach,  and  they  found  their  interest  in  gossip; 
every  man's  affair  became  public  property  and  the  subject  of  general  discus 
sion.  The  bare  necessaries  of  life  were  easily  obtained  ;  men  ate  game  and 
fish,  and  wore  skins ;  but  money  was  lacking,  and,  taking  advantage  of  the 
easy  confidence  of  the  day,  every  man  "  coined  false  money  from  that  cruci- 


BIRTH,    EDUCATION,    AND    EARLY    POLITICAL    SERVICE.  583 

ble  called  debt."  Cards,  drink,  debt,  gossip, — what  seed  for  quarrels! 
Quarrels  arose,  and  many  of  them.  At  first  they  were  settled  by  contests 
of  physical  strength.  Then  came  the  second  wave  of  emigration;  the 
scum  and  off-casting  of  the  east;  rakes,  spendthrifts,  murderers,  who  were 
more  polished  but  infinitely  less  respectable  than  the  pioneers.  These  men 
brought  more  polite  vices,  and,  save  the  mark,  having  no  honor,  a  code  of 
honor  !  They  taught  the  rude  frontiersman  that  it  was  not  gentlemanly  to 
settle  a  quarrel  with  his  hands,  and  the  duello  at  once  became  a  fixed  insti 
tution.  Men  were  challenged  for  a  smile  and  killed  for  a  sneer;  as  always 
among  the  ignorant,  an  imported  fashion  being  adopted  and  carried  beyond 
its  acceptance  by  lifelong  devotees. 

In  this  community  the  regular  administration  of  justice  by  a  court  of 
law,  was  a  new  and  galling  thing.  The  pistol  and  the  bowie  knife  were 
resorts  so  much  more  simple  ;  so  much  more  gentlemanly  !  To  set  the 
authority  of  law  in  place  and  there  maintain  it  was  a  very  delicate  and  dif 
ficult  duty,  and  it  largely  devolved  upon  the  prosecuting  attorney.  Had  he 
been  a  man  of  the  cities, — a  lawyer  and  a  gentleman  ;  had  he  endeavored 
to  base  his  authority  upon  the  sanction  of  his  commission,  and  to  enforce 
respect  for  the  law  by  terror  of  its  penalties,  he  would  have  had  his  labor 
for  his  pains,  and  it  is  more  than  likely  would  have  suffered  personal  indig 
nity  or  injury.  Jackson  was  the  man  of  all  men  for  the  place.  Heshowred 
his  ne\v  neighbors  that  he  was  as  ready  to  drink,  game,  quarrel  "even,  on 
due  provocation  to  kill,  as  any  of  them.  Thus  he  gained  their  respect"  and 
the  friendship  of  many.  They  submitted  to  his  official  acts  because  he  was 
Andrew  Jackson  ;  he  made  many  and  bitter  enemies,  but,  when  these 
sought  to  drive  him  from  the  country  for  taking  charge  of  collection  cases, 
they  found  his  friends  rallying  to  his  support,  and  that  these  friends  were  in 
a  majority.  He  feared  nothing  and  performed  every  duty  with  the  most 
inflexible  determination.  When  he  found  himself  peculiarly  unpopular  at 
Nashville,  and  threatened  with  violence  by  his  enemies  there,  he  at  once 
removed  his  effects  to  that  place  and  made  it  his  home.  And  it  may  be 
well  to  here  say,  that  this  act  was  characteristic  of  his  policy  through  life. 
He  never  encountered  opposition  that  he  did  not  become  at  once  and  une 
quivocally  the  aggressor.  The  only  means  of  self-justification  he  ever 
tried,  was  retaliation,  and  he  almost  uniformly  succeeded.  These  years  of 
arduous  service  in  Tennessee  gave  Jackson  his  first  taste  of  popularity; 
taught  him  that  the  people  were  easier  won  by  mastering  than  by  courting 
them,  and  so  developed  his  naturally  independent  and  inflexible  habit,  as  to 
make  him  the  daring  and  arbitrary  man  whom  the  world  knew  at  New 
Orleans,  in  Florida,  and  at  Washington. 

Not  many  years  after  Jackson's  removal  to  Tennessee  occurred  a  series 
of  circumstances  which  cast  a  shadow  over  his  domestic  life,  and  had  no 
small  influence  in  embittering  his  disposition,  to  say  nothing  of  leading  him 


584  ANDREW    JACKSON. 

into  many  and  serious  quarrels.  The  house  in  which  he  boarded  was  that 
of  Mrs.  Donelson,  widow  of  a  pioneer,  who,  early  in  the  history  of  the  terri 
tory,  lost  his  life  in  a  skirmish  with  the  Indians.  Living  in  the  same  house 
were  Lewis  Robards  and  his  wife,  the  latter  of  whom  was  the  daughter  of  Mrs. 
Donelson.  Robards  was  a  man  of  extremely  jealous  temperament;  he  dis 
trusted  his  wife,  whether  with  reason  we  cannot  know,  nor  is  it  profitable  to 
inquire.  He  had  before  accused  her  of  specific  infidelity,  and  repeated  the 
charge  in  connection  with  -the  name  of  Jackson.  The  marriage  had  occurred 
in  Virginia,  and  there  was  at  that  time  no  divorce  law  in  that  state.  Hence 
Robards  forwarded  a  petition  to  the  legislature,  praying  that  a  divorce  be 
granted  by  special  act,  accompanying  his  petition  with  affidavits  tending  to 
show  that  his  wife  was  living  in  adultery  with  Andrew  Jackson.  This  peti 
tion  was  forwarded  early  in  1791  ;  the  legislature  declined  to  grant  it,  but 
passed  an  act  authorizing  the  supreme  court  of  Kentucky  to  try  the  issue 
with  a  jury,  and,  in  case  the  allegations  were  sustained,  to  grant  a  decree. 
News  of  this  action  reached  Jackson  and  Mrs.  Robards  in  a  distorted  form, 
and  the  two,  supposing  that  a  divorce  had  actually  been  granted,  were  mar 
ried  during  the  summer  of  1791.  Robards  did  not  at  once  take  advantage 
of  the  Virginia  enactment,  but,  in  1793,  applied  to  the  Kentucky  quarter 
sessions  of  Mercer  county,  Kentucky,  and,  there  being  no  trouble  in  prov 
ing  the  existing  relations  of  Jackson  and  Mrs.  Robards,  was  granted  a 
decree.  When  news  of  this  came  to  Jackson  in  January,  1794,  he  made 
Mrs.  Robards  his  wife.  There  was  doubtless  a  fault  and  a  serious  one. 
Jackson,  as  a  man  and  a  lawyer,  should  have  taken  no  verbal  testimony 
as  evidence  in  so  important  a  matter,  and  one  involving  so  delicate  a 
thing  as  his  wife's  good  name  and  honor;  there  was  scandal  and  gossip 
at  the  time,  and  more  still  when  his  exaltation  made  him  a  target  for  envi 
ous  attack.  Having,  however,  committed  a  fault  and  placed  a  woman  whom 
he  loved  in  a  false  position,  he  made  the  only  reparation  in  his  power. 
Though  she  was  his  inferior  at  the  time  of  his  marriage,  and  vastly  out  of 
her  element  as  wife  of  a  man  prominent  in  national  affairs,  he  clung  to  her 
with  tender  devotion  during  thirty  years  of  married  life,  and  was  as  true  to 
her  memory  during  the  many  years  following  her  death  and  preceding  his 
own.  His  chivalrous  attachment  for  her  is  one  of  the  few  gleams  of  senti 
ment  which  adorn  a  life  of  stern  practicality,  bitter  struggle,  and  passionate 
prejudice.  He  knew  but  one  punishment  for  the  man  who  spoke  slight 
ingly  of  her  ;  that  was  death.  His  own  position  made  him  exceptionally 
punctilious  as  to  the  treatment  of  other  women,  and  probably  in  no  other 
administration  since  the  American  government  was  established,  would  it 
have  been  possible  for  a  mere  social  slight,  like  the  refusal  of  the  wives  of 
certain  ministers  and  officials,  to  recognize  the  bride  of  a  cabinet  officer, 
to  be  made  a  question  of  state,  threaten  to  disrupt  a  cabinet,  break  off 


BIRTH,    EDUCATION,   AND    EARLY    POLITICAL    SERVICE.  585 

political  friendships  of  the  President,  and  at  last  become  almost  a  party  issue, 
as  in  the  case  of  Mrs.  Eaton  (Peggy  O'Neil). 

Up  to  the  month  of  December,  1796,  Jackson's  knowledge  of  the  world, 
or  the  polite  portion  of  it  which  abides  in  cities,  was  limited  to  the  experience 
obtained  during  a  visit  to  Charleston,  made  in  the  year  1783.  Having 
served  during  January,  1796,  as  a  member  of  the  convention  which  met  at 
Knoxville,  and  framed  a  constitution  for  the  new  state  of  Tennessee,  and 
that  state  having  been  admitted  to  the  Union  in  June,  1796,  against  the 
opposition  of  the  federalists,  he  was,  during  the  following  autumn,  elected 
its  first  representative  in  Congress.  Proceeding  to  Philadelphia  to  assume 
his  seat,  he  arrived  at  the  time  first  above  mentioned.  The  admission 
of  Tennessee  was  a  federalist  defeat;  Jefferson  was  the  representative  of  the 
democratic-republican  party,  and  Jackson  was  probably  not  only  a  Jefferson- 
ian  democrat  by  instinct  and  personal  sympathy,  but  by  reason  of  the 
opposition  of  the  federalists  to  the  recognition  of  his  state.  Coming  from 
a  rude  frontier  community,  and  little  skilled  in  the  arts  of  legislation,  he 
probably  excited  more  curiosity  than  deference.  When  he  took  his  seat  the 
presidential  contest  was  at  its  height.  As  between  Adams  and  Jefferson,  he 
had  no  hesitation  in  espousing  the  cause  of  the  latter,  and  at  this  there  is  no 
reason  to  be  surprised.  It  was  not,  however,  long  before  he  showed  the 
first  indication  of  the  obstinate  and  fatuous  partisanship  which  so  often,  in 
after  life,  excited  the  hatred  of  his  enemies  and  the  commiseration  of  his 
friends.  When  Adams  had  been  elected,  and  a  resolution  of  regret  at  the 
retirement  of  Washington  was  offered  in  the  House  of  Representatives, 
Jackson  was  one  of  the  twelve  members  who  offered  a  gratuitous  insult  to  a 
great  and  good  man,  by  voting  in  the  negative.  In  the  light  of  the  present 
day  we  can  see  that  the  financial  and  foreign  policy,  which  called  down  the 
hatred  of  the  Jeffersonian  democrats  upon  the  federalists,  and  the  hatred  of 
the  unthinking  minority  of  that  party  upon  Washington,  was  in  fact  the 
wisest  and  best,  that  could  have  been  adopted,  under  the  circumstances  then 
existing;  even  thcn.it  was  possible  for  a  man  not  utterly  blinded  to  the 
truth,  to  see  how  even  a  course  Washington  steered  between  the  somewhat 
too  radical  policy  of  Hamilton  and  the  unpractical  theorizing  of  Jefferson; 
how  singly  he  labored  for  the  good  of  his  country  in  the  best  and  most 
permanent  sense  ;  how  he  accepted  praise,  without  exaltation ;  misrepresen 
tation- and  abuse  without  irritation  ;  the  insidious  hints  of  monarchists  with 
contempt,  and  met  the  mad  demands  of  the  Gallic  propaganda  with  patient 
resistance. 

A  year  after  Jackson's  election  to  the  House  of  Representatives,  the 
death  of  Blount,  of  Tennessee,  rendered  vacant  the  senatorship  from  that 
state,  and  Jackson  was  appointed  his  successor.  He  served  in  the  Senate 
only  until  April,  1798,  when  he  resigned  his  seat.  In  the  course  of  his 
service,  his  vote  reflected  the  opinion  of  Jefferson,  opposing  every  provision 


586  ANDREW    JACKSON. 

for  possible  war  with  France,  and  favoring  the  embargo.  During  the  whole 
course  of  his  congressional  service  he  appeared  as  the  champion  of  but  one 
important  measure, — that  the  indemnification  of  Tennessee  for  losses  and 
expenses  in  the  Indian  wars  upon  her  borders.  This  he  pushed  to  a  suc 
cessful  issue,  thus  laying  the  foundation  of  a  great  and  lasting  popularity  in 
his  own  state. 

It  is  evident  that  Jackson  at  that  time  cared  little  for  office  ;  he  might 
have  remained  United  States  senator  indefinitely,  had  he  so  chosen,  and  it  is 
difficult  to  ascribe  his  resignation  to  any  cause  unless  to  indifference,  or  to 
financial  trouble,  and  there  is  no  evidence  of  the  existence  of  the  latter 
at  that  time.  Gallatin  has  left  these  words  regarding  his  appearance  in 
those  early  days  of  his  public  life:  "  A  tall,  lank,  uncouth-looking  person 
age,  with  long  locks  of  hair  hanging  over  his  face  and  a  queue  down  his  back, 
tied  in  an  eel  skin  ;  his  dress  singular,  his  manners  and  deportment  that  of 
a  rough  backwoodsman."  Jefferson,  in  1824,  expressed  this  recollection  of 
him  :  "  When  I  was  president  of  the  Senate  he  was  a  senator,  and  he  could 
never  speak  on  account  of  the  rashness  of  his  feelings." 

Thus  turning  his  back  upon  Philadelphia,  Jackson  was,  in  1798, 
appointed  a  judge  of  the  supreme  court  of  Tennessee, — a  strong  illustra 
tion  of  the  looseness  of  such  selections.  Never  a  good  lawyer,  no  worse 
man  could  have  been  found  for  a  judge  ;  a  partisan  by  nature,  incapable  of 
looking  at  a  question  without  taking  sides  ;  utterly  lacking  in  self-control, 
and  without  the  first  spark  of  the  judicial  instinct,,  his  appointment  was 
indeed  a  commentary  upon  the  social  and  legal  standards  of  the  day.  As 
an  illustration  of  this  unfitness,  it  may  be  stated  that  while  Jackson  was 
upon  the  bench,  he  engaged  in  a  bitter  and  unseemly  quarrel  with  Governor 
Sevier,  of  Tennessee.  It  began  with  childish  jealousy  between  the  two  men  ; 
Sevier,  an  old  politician,  could  ill  brook  the  daily  advancing  popularity  and 
influence  of  Jackson,  who  was  more  than  twenty  years  his  junior.  Various 
influences  combined  to  heighten  this  rancor  and  render  it  mutual,  and  only  a 
pretext  was  needed  to  make  the  quarrel  a  public  one.  Finally  this  came  ; 
the  militia  of  Tennessee  was  to  elect  a  major-general  in  1801.  Both  Sevier 
and  Jackson  were  candidates,  and  the  latter, 

"...     Who  never  set  a  squadron  in  the  field, 
Nor  the  division  of  a  battle  knew 
More  than  a  spinster," 

was  successful.  This  was  too  much  for  Sevier's  philosophy ;  he  was  soon 
after  elected  governor  of  the  state ;  immediately  the  two — the  highest 
executive  and  the  highest  judicial  officer  of  Tennessee — engaged  in  a  public 
discussion  and  quarrel,  because  one  had  been  chosen  before  the  other,  to 
command  the  raw  militia  of  the  state!  Each  had  his  adherents,  parties 
were  formed,  and  a  collision  actually  occurred,  which  might  well  have 
resulted  fatally.  Kendall,  who  is  inclined  to  be  a  devotee  of  Jackson,  says 
that  this  contest  contributed  greatly  to  his  political  strength. 


BIRTH,     EDUCATION,     AND    EARLY    POLITICAL    SERVICE.  587 

In  1804  he  resigned  his  position  upon  the  bench,  and  became  a  planter. 
During  his  previous  experience  as  a  merchant,  Jackson  had  become  involved 
by  reason  of  the  universal  credit  system.  There  was  little  money  in  the 
state ;  land  speculation  in  its  wildest  form  was  upon  the  people  ;  real  estate 
values  were  inflated  to  the  last  point ;  land  became  a  currency;  men  paid  for 
sugar  with  land  contracts,  and  gave  deeds  in  exchange  for  garments. 
Finally  inflation  was  carried  too  far ;  the  market  broke  ;  the  backward  swing 
of  the  pendulum  brought  prices  down  to  almost  nothing,  and  men  who 
could  not  eat  a  quarter  section,  or  wear  a  deed,  were  like  to  starve.  Jack 
son  was  one  of  the  sufferers  by  this  collapse,  but  his  judgeship  tided  him 
over  the  worst,  and  re-embarking  in  business,  he  soon  cleared  himself,  and 
was  once  more  a  free  man.  So  soon  as  he  had  accomplished  this,  he  gave 
up  his  store,  and  devoted  himself  entirely  to  the  care  of  his  plantation. 

Enough  has  already  been  said  of  Jackson's  fiery  and  ungovernable 
temper,  and  of  the  social  ideas  of  his  day,  so  that  it  excites  no  surprise  to 
read  that  lie  fought  as  well  as  quarreled  ;  had  he  quarreled  without  fighting 
he  would  have  been  deemed  a  braggart,  not  entitled  to  the  respect  of  gen 
tlemen.  Already,  in  1794,  he  had  fought  a  duel  with  a  fellow-lawyer  named 
A  very,  over  no  more  serious  matter  than  the  usual  professional  sparring  of 
the  court  room.  This  did  not  result  seriously.  In  1806,  however,  he  fought 
a  much  more  excusable  duel,  which  was  made  the  basis  of  political  attack 
and  personal  abhorrence  of  him  during  the  remainder  of  his  life.  Charles 
Dickenson  made  a  remark  referring  to  Jackson's  marriage  in  a  manner 
injurious  to  his  wife.  A  challenge  followed,  and  was  accepted.  Each  man 
meant  to  kill  his  opponent.  They  fought  with  pistols,  and  at  short  range. 
Jackson's  aim  was  the  truer;  Dickenson  fell  mortally  wounded,  while  his 
bullet  broke  two  of  Jackson's  ribs,  weakening  him  for  life.  The  affair  was 
a  sad  one  in  itself,  and  very  unfortunate  in  its  effect  upon  the  survivor,  both 
personally  and  politically. 

In  1805,  Aaron  Burr,  in  furtherance  of  his  treasonable  schemes  of 
empire,  called  upon  Jackson  and  urged  the  latter  to  enter  into  an  arrange 
ment  to  furnish  boats  for  the  transportation  of  his  expedition  down  the 
Mississippi.  Jackson  was  not  a  crafty  man,  and  he  seems  to  have  been  at' 
first  favorably  impressed  with  Burr,  and  not  entirely  opposed  to  his  project. 
It  is  but  fair  to  say,  however,  that  he  does  not  appear  to  have  at  all  under 
stood  the  full  import  and  significance  of  the  latter.  His  mind  was  of  a  cast 
which  delights  in  aggression  and  glories  in  conquest;  he  was,  after  all,  ill 
educated,  little  informed,  and  inexperienced,  He  lived,  and  had  for  years 
lived,  along  the  Mississippi,  among  people  whose  vital  interests  were  cen 
tered  in  the  control  of  that  river ;  who  regarded  the  Spaniards  as  standing 
in  the  way  of  their  unquestionable  rights,  and  subject  to  the  penalties  of 
such  wrongful  interference.  He  never  found  it  easy  to  grasp  an  abstraction, 
and  the  moral  discriminations  of  politics  were  hard  for  him  to  understand.  He 


588  ANDREW   JACKSON. 

saw  no  reason  to  favor  the  Spaniard,  and,  as  Burr  very  wisely  refrained  from 
making  him  the  confidant  of  his  ulterior  schemes,  he  was  not  averse  to  the 
idea.  Later  there  dawned  upon  his  mind  the  idea  that  Burr's  project 
embraced  the  plan  of  an  independent  empire ;  even  then  he  found  it  hard  to 
relinquish  interest  in  so  tempting  a  plan,  and  felt  inclined,  to  borrow  a  vul 
gar  illustration,  emulating  the  short-sighted  sportsman,  to  so  shoot  as  to 
"  hit  it  if  it  were  a  deer  and  miss  it  if  it  were  a  calf; "  to  give  his  covert  sup 
port  until  he  found  treason  actually  lurking  behind;  then  to  be  in  such  a 
position  that  he  might  safely  and  speedily  withdraw.  Yet  there  is  no  doubt 
that  had  he  at  first  suspected  treason,  he  would  have  had  none  of  it,  and, 
when  it  was  fairly  forced  upon  his  belief  that  Burr  was  not  so  disin 
terested  as  he  chose  to  appear,  there  was  little  delay  in  his  action.  It 
seems  unquestionable  that  Burr,  while  apparently  seeking  only  transporta 
tion,  had  much  deeper  schemes  regarding  Jackson;  he  made  systematic 
efforts  to  engage  such  men  as  he  in  his  plans.  Particularly  did  he  do  so,  if 
he  believed  them  to  have  any  cause  of  discontent  against  the  government. 
He  worked  upon  Wilkinson,  Truxton,  and  Eaton,  on  this  ground,  and, 
knowing  Jackson  to  have  applied  to  Jefferson  for  the  governorship  of  New 
Orleans,  and  been  rebuffed,  he  relied  upon  that  fact  to  influence  him. 

Wilkinson,  who  appeared  as  Burr's  accuser,  was  in  command  at  New 
Orleans ;  for  this  and  some  other  reasons,  Jackson  cordially  hated  him,  and 
this  fact,  taken  in  connection  with  an  undoubted  soreness  toward  Jefferson, 
prevented  his  ever  looking  coolly  and  dispassionately  at  the  matter  of  Burr's 
trial,  and,  even  years  later,  he  seemed  to  feel  that  there  was  injustice  some 
where  in  the  matter,  though  where  he  could  scarcely  tell. 

But  one  more  episode  remains  to  be  related  before  passing  to  the  sec 
ond  period  of  Jackson's  career.  Let  it  be  in  the  words  of  Sumner:  "The 
next  we  hear  of  him,  however,  he  is  committing  another  act  of  violence. 
Silas  Dinsmore,  the  Indian  agent,  refused  to  allow  persons  to  pass  through 
the  Indian  country  with  negroes,  unless  they  had  passports  for  negroes.  It 
was  his  duty  by  law  to  enforce  this  rule.  There  were  complaints  that 
negroes  ran  away  or  were  stolen.  This  regulation,  however,  interfered  with 
the  trade  in  negroes.  This  trade  was  then  regarded  as  dishonorable.  It  has 
been  charged  that  Jackson  was  engaged  in  it,  and  the  facts  very  easily  bear 
that  color.  He  passed  through  the  Indian  country  with  some  negroes, 
without  hindrance,  because  Dinsmore  was  away,  but  he  took  up  the  quarrel 
with  the  agent,  and  wrote  to  Campbell  to  tell  the  secretary  of  war  that,  if 
Dinsmore  was  not  removed,  the  people  of  west  Tennessee  would  burn  him 
in  his  own  agency.  There  is  a  great  deal  of  fire  in  the  letter,  and  not  a  little 
about  liberty  and  free  government.  Dinsmore  was  suspended,  and  things 
took  such  a  turn  that  he  lost  his  position  and  was  reduced  to  poverty.  Par- 
ton  gives  a  story  of  an  attempt  by  Dinsmore,  eight  years  later,  to  conciliate 
Jackson.  This  attempt  was  dignified,  yet  courteous  and  becoming.  Jack- 


BIRTH,    EDUCATION,    AND    EARLY    POLITICAL    SERVICE.  589 

son  repelled  it  in  a  very  brutal  and  low-bred  manner.  Dinsmore  did  not 
know  until  1828,  when  he  was  a  petitioner  at  Washington  and  the  papers 
were  called  for,  that  Jackson  had  been  the  cause  of  his  ruin." 

No  man  in  the  world  ever  had  a  more  logically  illogical,  or  consistently 
inconsistent  development  than  did  Jackson.  The  canons  of  taste  of  the 
Waxhaw  settlement,  where  his  youth  was  passed ;  the  code  of  manners  of 
early  Tennessee ;  the  disregard  even  of  law,  when  it  tended  to  his  inconven 
ience,  were  at  times  as  evident  during  his  second  presidential  term,  as 
when  he  wantonly  ruined  poor  Dinsmore;  when  he  banished  the  French 
from  New  Orleans,  and  hanged  inoffensive  non-combatants  in  Florida.  To 
understand  the  vagaries  of  the  President,  one  needs  but  to  read  the  history 
of  the  man. 


ANDREW    JACKSON* 


CHAPTER   II. 

TO  THE   BATTLE  OF  NEW  ORLEANS. 

r  I  ^HIS  work  has  now  brought  the  life  of  Jackson  in  meagre  outline  to 
the  point  where  he  was  to  change  from  civil  to  military  employment. 
It  would  be  pleasant  and  profitable  to  go  more  minutely  into  the  relation  of 
incidents — especially  profitable  for  the  reason  that  few  prominent  men  have 
ever  been  so  largely  influenced  by  daily  experience.  Some  men  seem  to  be 
evolved  by  natural  processes,  by  thought  and  study;  and  would  develop  to 
greatness  in  a  monastery  or  a  cave.  Others  are  formed  from  without,  by 
the  force  of  circumstances  and  the  attrition  of  events.  Jackson  belonged 
to  the  latter  class  ;  he  was  an  a  posteriori  man.  It  is,  however,  only  possible 
to  touch  here  and  there  a  salient  point  in  his  earlier  life,  selecting,  as  far  as 
possible,  those  which  are  characteristic  of  the  man,  and  typical  of  the 
influences  which  combined  to  form  the  rugged  outlines  of  his  character. 

When  Madison,  having  for  four  years  struggled  with  the  policy  left  him 
by  Jefferson,  until  the  United  States  had  become  an  object  of  contempt 
abroad,  and  the  administration  had  earned  the  displeasure  even  of  its  own 
party  at  home, — when,  after  all  this,  as  a  condition  for  re-election,  Madison 
yielded  to  those  who  demanded  a  stronger  government,  war  was  regarded 
as  inevitable.  When  came  the  declaration  of  war,  Jackson  at  once  offered 
his  service  with  that  of  two  thousand  five  hundred  volunteers.  It  was  con 
sidered  that  the  enemy  was  likely  to  make  New  Orleans  an  objective  point, 
and  Jackson  moved  in  that  direction,  at  the  same  time  assuring  the  secre 
tary  of  war,  that  neither  he  nor  his  men  had  any  constitutional  scruples,  and 
that  they  were  prepared  to  push  the  campaign  to  any  extremity,  even  to 
the  planting  of  the  American  flag  at  St.  Augustine. 

Reaching  Natchez,  Jackson  opened  his  campaign  by  a  quarrel  with  his 
old  enemy,  General  Wilkinson,  upon  a  question  of  rank.  Thomas  H.  Ben- 
ton  served  under  Jackson  and,  thinking  his  commander  in  the  wrong,  so 
declared,  thus  producing  a  breach  which  was  never  fairly  healed.  Some  one 


TO  THE  BATTLE  OF  NEW  ORLEANS.  59! 

said,  during  Jackson's  lifetime,  that,  if  he  met  an  enemy  at  the  gate  ol 
heaven,  he  would  keep  St.  Peter  with  the  latch  in  his  hand,  while  he  4t  had 
it  out."  This  rencontre  left  Jackson  in  a  frame  of  mind  none  too  amiable, 
and  his  temper  was  not  sweetened  by  the  fact  that  he  received  orders  from 
the  war  department  that,  as  no  attack  upon  New  Orleans  was  immediately 
apprehended,  he  should  disband  his  troops  and  dismiss  them  to  their  homes. 
He  was  eager  for  action,  and  the  order  was  in  itself  a  sore  disappointment. 
Then,  too,  no  provision  was  made  for  pay,  rations,  or  transportation,  and 
this  careless  dismissal  of  his  troops,  so  far  from  their  homes,  enraged  him. 
He  did  not  long  hesitate  as  to  his  course,  but  pledged  his  own  credit  for 
boats  and  supplies,  and  kept  his  organization  until  he  reached  the  district  in 
which  his  troops  had  been  raised,  then  disbanded  them.  This  was  probably 
an  act  of  impulsive  generosity  on  his  part,  yet  it  could  not  have  served  him 
more  admirably,  had  he  been  a  Cajsar.  The  men  who  formed  his  com 
mand  never  forgot  this  kindness,  and  it  laid  the  first  substantial  foundation 
for  the  unbounded  and  unthinking  popularity  which  still  survives,  and  the 
almost  superstitious  love  and  veneration  in  which  his  name  is  to-day  held  by 
a  large  section  of  the  American  people.  The  war  department  later  ordered 
that  the  men  receive  pay  and  rations,  and  Thomas  H.  Benton,  overlooking 
his  quarrel,  procured  an  appropriation  from  Congress,  reimbursing  Jackson. 
This  promising  overture  for  a  reconciliation,  was  rendered  ineffective  by  sub 
sequent  events.  Jesse  Benton,  a  brother  of  Thomas,  became  involved  in  a 
quarrel  ;  a  challenge  and  duel  followed,  and  Jackson  acted  as  second  of  Ben- 
ton's  antagonist.  From  this  circumstance  gossip  arose  ;  Thomas  Benton  made 
some  injurious  remark  about  Jackson,  and  the  latter  publicly  threatened  to 
horsewhip  him.  The  three,  Jesse  and  Thomas  Benton,  and  Jackson,  met  in 
a  hotel  in  Nashville  ;  words  led  to  blows,  blows  to  shots,  and  Jackson  retired 
from  the  scene  with  a  bullet  in  his  shoulder.  Thus  was  another  violent  act 
added  to  the  list  which  would  at  this  da}-  hopelessly  ruin  a  politician,  if  it 
did  not  earn  him,  instead  of  office,  the  punishment  of  the  law. 

Short!}'  after  the  rencontre  with  the  Bentons,  and  while  Jackson's 
wound  still  confined  him  to  his  bed,  came  information  of  the  massacre  of 
whites  at  Fort  Mims,  Alabama,  which  began  the  Creek  war.  Tecumseh,  the 
able  and  wily  chief,  had  determined  upon  allying  the  Indians  for  a  general  war 
upon  their  common  enemy.  The  beginning  of  the  war  of  iS  i  2  gave  him  not 
inspiration  or  incentive,  but  opportunity.  He  saw  in  it  the  chance  of  unit 
ing  the  Indians  from  Canada  to  the  Gulf,  and,  either  by  alliance  with  Eng 
land,  or  by  an  independent  movement,  while  the  Americans  were  engrossed 
in  the  contest  with  their  civili/ed  enemy,  sweep  them  back,  and  recover  the 
country  which  they  occupied.  Tecumseh's  death  prevented  the  forming  of 
an  alliance  or  the  waging  of  a  common  war,  but  the  Creeks,  by  their  mas 
sacre  at  Mims,  began  a  war,  serious  in  its  immediate  effects,  and  which  prom 
ised  disastrous  results  for  the  future.  Alabama  was  almost  deserted  by 


592  ANDREW   JACKSON. 

settlers  ;  Georgia,  Tennessee,  and  the  Carolinas  were  alarmed,  and  immedi 
ate  preparations  were  made  for  aggression  and  defense. 

Jackson  chafed  in  his  sick-bed  that  he  could  not  at  once  take  part  in  the 
enterprise;  he  concerted  with  General  Cocke,  the  junior  major-genera) 
of  the  state,  the  measures  to  be  taken  in  the  emergency,  and,  at  the 
earliest  moment,  joined  his  forces  in  the  field.  The  campaign,  like  every 
extended  enterprise,  attempted  with  pioneer  militia — was  attended  by  the 
double  difficulty  of  defeating  the  enemy,  and  of  keeping  coherent  a  raw, 
undisciplined,  insubordinate  and  homesick  army.  Sumner  has  been  quoted 
as  saying  some  severe  things  concerning  Jackson ;  he  gives  him  much  credit 
for  the  conduct  of  this  war,  saying:  "  .  .  .  .  The  character  of  the 
commander  was  all  important  to  such  an  army.  On  three  occasions  Jack 
son  had  to  use  one  part  of  his  army  to  prevent  another  part  from  marching 
home,  he  and  they  differing  on  the  construction  of  the  terms  of  enlistment. 
He  showed  very  strong  qualities  under  these  trying  circumstances.  He 
endured  delay  with  impatience,  but  with  fortitude,  and  without  a  suggestion 
of  abandoning  the  enterprise,  although  he  was  in  wretched  health  all  the 
time.  He  knew  how  to  be  severe  with  them,  without  bringing  them  to  open 
revolt,  and  he  knew  how  to  make  the  most  efficacious  appeals  to  them. 
In  conduct  of  movements  against  the  enemy,  his  energy  was  very  remarkable. 
So  long  as  there  was  an  enemy  unsubdued,  Jackson  could  not  rest,  and  could 
not  give  heed  to  anything  else.  Obstacles  which  lay  in  the  way  between 
him  and  his  unsubdued  enemy,  were  not  allowed  to  deter  him.  This  rest 
less  and  absorbing  determination  to  reach  and  crush  anything  hostile,  was 
one  of  the  most  marked  traits  in  Jackson's  character.  It  appeared  in  all  his 
military  operations,  and  he  carried  it  afterward  into  his  civil  activity." 

Jackson  justified  every  military  movement  by  making  it  successful; 
men  hastened  to  enlist  under  him,  because  they  deemed  him  invincible;  his 
name  went  out  through  the  United  States  with  a  new  significance  and  a  new 
eclat.  He,  hanged  a  man  for  a  technical  offense,  in  a  case  where  clemency 
might  not  have  been  amiss;  his  army  but  respected  him  the  more;  the  odd 
affection  they  had  for  the  man,  who  was  their  master  as  well  as  their  general, 
was  not  one  whit  lessened. 

He  defeated  the  enemy  at  Tohopeka,  Alabama;  he  followed  him  to 
the  Hickory  Ground  and  the  Holy  Ground,  near  the  junction  of  the  Coosa 
and  the  Tallapoosa  rivers.  The  savages  believed  no  white  man  could  follow 
them  to  this  Holy  Ground,  deeming  it  a  charmed  place  of  refuge.  They 
found  their  mistake ;  Jackson  followed  them  hotly,  cruelly ;  they  were 
beaten  on  the  Hickory  Ground;  driven  from  the  Holy  Ground  ;  the  surviv 
ors  fled  into  Florida,  and  the  war  was  over.  Fort  Jackson  was  built  on  the 
Hickory  Ground,  and  the  good  behavior  of  the  Creeks  was  assured,  for  a 
time  at  least.  The  Tennessee  militia  was  dismissed  April  10,  1814,  after  a 
campaign  of  only  seven  months,  which  had  contributed  very  largely  to  the 


TO    THE    BATTLE    OF    NEW    ORLEANS.  593 

reputation  of  General  Jackson,  who  would  else  have  remained,  in  the  esti 
mation  of  the  country,  nothing  more  than  a  prominent  local  politician  and  a 
leading  militia  commander. 

As  a  result  of  the  new  recognition,  Jackson  was,  on  the  2 1st  day  of 
May,  1814,  appointed  a  major-general  in  the  army  of  the  United  States, 
with  command  of  the  army  of  the  south,  and  established  his  headquarters 
at  Mobile,  as  there  was  renewed  fear  that  either  that  place  or  New  Orleans 
would  be  attacked  by  the  British.  The  enemy  did,  in  fact,  soon  appear, 
and  took  post  at  Pensacola,  thus  raising,  at  the  very  outset  of  the  southern 
campaign,  the  question  of  the  relations  of  Spain  to  the  combatants.  Pen 
sacola  was  within  Spanish  territory,  and  Spain  was  ostensibly  a  neutral,  yet 
by  thus  giving  harbor  to  the  enemies  of  the  United  States,  she  seemed 
almost  to  invite  retaliation.  Jackson's  personal  feelings  were  opposed  to  any 
consideration  of  Spanish  rights;  he  only  wished  a  pretext  such  as  was  then 
furnished,  to  move  against  Spain  as  an  enemy.  Mis  army  was,  however,  a 
small  one,  and  very  ill  supplied  with  the  necessaries  of  war.  Hence  he 
curbed  his  impatience,  long  enough  to  send  north,  representing  his  own 
condition  and  the  state  of  affairs,  and  requesting  of  the  secretary  of  war 
reinforcements  and  instructions.  That  was  the  darkest  time  of  the  war; 
the  British  troops  had  even  then  captured  the  city  of  Washington,  and 
destroyed  the  public  buildings;  neither  reinforcements  nor  instructions  came, 
though  the  secretary  of  war  wrote  a  letter  in  which  he  told  Jackson  that 
before  any  violation  of  the  neutrality  of  Spanish  territory,  it  must  be  clear 
that  British  occupancy  of  Florida  was  with  the  privity  and  consent  of 
Spain.  This  letter  Jackson  never  received. 

On  the  i  5th  of  September,  the  British,  as  a  preliminary  of  an  assault 
upon  Jackson's  main  position,  attacked  Fort  Bouyer,  upon  Mobile  point, 
but  were  repulsed  with  loss,  retreating  to  Pensacola.  This  was  enough  for 
Jackson,  who  at  once  advanced  upon  the  latter  place,  with  three  thousand 
men  ;  he  attacked  it  with  characteristic  energy,  and  with  his  usual  success. 
The  Spanish  surrendered  the  forts  held  by  them,  while  the  English  blew  up 
their  fort  and  departed.  His  double  object, — the  dislodgment  of  the  British 
and  the  punishment  of  the  Spanish,  being  thus  accomplished,  Jackson  made 
a  rapid  retrograde  movement  to  Mobile,  fearing  a  second  attack  at  that 
point.  Not  remaining  long,  he  removed  his  army  and  his  headquarters  to 
New  Orleans,  where  he  arrived  December  2,  1814. 

The  condition  of  affairs  at  that  point  was  especially  discouraging;  fhere 
were  no  arms,  no  supplies;  no  public  spirit.  Not  the  slightest  preparation 
had  been  made  for  defense.  Jackson's  first  act  was  to  proclaim  martial  law; 
his  next,  in  logical  sequence,  to  impress  men, — soldiers  and  sailors — arms, 
stores,  and  whatever  private  property  he  deemed  necessary  for  the  purposes 
of  war.  During  the  month  of  December  the  British  appeared  upon  the 
coast,  as  expected.  Had  they  come  but  a  few  days  sooner, — or  had  they 


594  ANDREW    JACKSON. 

found  opposed  to  them,  a  man  less  active  and  indefatigable,  New  Orleans, 
the  key  to  the  south,  would  inevitably  have  fallen  into  their  hands.  Their 
first  movement  was  to  attack,  with  their  flotilla  of  forty-three  vessels,  the 
five  American  gunboats  on  Lake  Borgne.  These  were  captured,  almost  as 
a  matter  of  course.  Then  an  advance  was  begun  toward  the  city.  Jackson 
adopted  the  policy  that  ruled  him,  in  civil  and  in  military  affairs,  throughout 
his  life;  that  of  aggression.  On  the  22d  day  of  December  he  threw  for 
ward  a  force  of  two  thousand  men  to  attack  the  enemy.  The  first  collision 
occurred  on  the  morning  of  the  23d,  at  a  point  about  nine  miles  below  the 
city.  The  British  first  had  two  thousand  five  hundred  men  in  action,  but 
soon  increasqd  this  number  to  nearly  five  thousand.  The  battle  was  an 
extremely  hot  one,  and  when,  after  nearly  two  hours  of  close  fighting,  the 
American  force  was  withdrawn  to  its  works,  five  miles  nearer  the  city,  it  was 
with  a  decided  advantage.  The  British  loss  in  this  action  was  fcur  hundred 
killed,  wounded,  and  prisoners;  that  of  the  Americans  twenty-four  killed, 
one  hundred  and  fifteen  wounded,  and  seventy-four  prisoners.  After  the 
retirement  of  the  Americans  the  enemy  advanced  and  entrenched  within 
easy  shot  of  their  works,  and  a  tremendous  artillery  duel  followed,  which, 
like  every  rapidly  succeeding  incident  of  the  short  contest  in  that  immediate 
quarter,  seemed  to  be  almost  miraculously  favorable  to  the  Americans,  the 
British  works  being  battered  almost  into  ruins,  while  those  behind  which  lay 
Jackson's  men,  constructed  as  they  were,  of  mingled  earth  and  cotton  bales, 
were  scarcely  injured.  On  the  8th  of  January,  1815,  the  English  made  a 
general  assault  upon  the  American  works.  Under  Jackson's  orders  his  men 
reserved  their  fire  until  the  enemy  was  quite  upon  them  ;  then  fired  a  well 
aimed  and  deadly  volley  from  their  rifles,  which  threw  the  enemy  into  hope 
less  confusion,  compelled  his  retirement,  and  won  the  battle.  The  British 
lost  two  thousand  killed,  wounded,  and  missing,  including  the  three  senior 
officers  of  the  army ;  Jackson  lost  but  seven  killed  and  six  wounded. 

Thus  ended  the  posthumous  battle  of  New  Orleans,  in  many  respects  an 
anomaly  in  warfare:  a  decisive  battle,  it  was  won  after  the  conclusion  of  a 
peace  ;  the  victors  were  less  in  number  than  the  vanquished ;  they  escaped 
almost  without  loss,  while  the  carnage  in  the  ranks  of  the  enemy  was  terri 
ble ;  they  were  raw,  undisciplined  levies,  commanded  by  a_  man  of  the 
smallest  experience,  and  arrayed  against  veterans  fresh  from  victory  over 
the  greatest  of  soldiers,  under  the  command  of  the  grand  old  "  Iron  Duke." 
No  one  had  dared  hope  for  a  victory  in  the  south  ;  succeeding  defeats, — the 
loss  of  Detroit;  the  sacking  of  Washington  ;  the  blockading  of  the  coast, 
had  accustomed  the  people  to  disaster,  and  the  news  from  New  Orleans, 
coming  almost  simultaneously  with  the  tidings  of  the  peace,  created  a  revul 
sion,  and  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  the  majority  of  the  people  in  the 
United  States  were  glad  that  the  tardy  announcement  of  the  result  at  Ghent, 


TO    THE    BATTLE    OF    NEW    ORLEANS.  595 

did  not  come  in  time  to  prevent  the  complete  and  humiliating  overthrow  of 
the  British  arms. 

In  New  Orleans  the  enthusiasm  at  the  result  was  of  the  wildest ;  the 
mercurial  French,  so  newly  brought  into  the  American  family,  had  little 
direct  interest  in  the  war,  but,  in  common  with  the  Spanish,  had  an  inherited 
grudge  against  England,  and  felt  a  humiliation  at  the  defeat  of  their  demi 
god,  Napoleon,  which  assured  their  sympathy  with  Jackson,  and  their 
delight  at  his  success.  Upon  his  return  to  the  city  he  was  given  a  welcome 
that  would  have  delighted  the  heart  of  Cajsar,  and  perhaps  to  this,  as  much 
as  to  the  intoxication  of  victor}",  was  due  his  subsequent  arbitrary  and  ill- 
advised  action.  He  was  wise  in  maintaining,  as  he  did,  an  attitude  of  vigi 
lant  preparation.  He  not  only  continued,  but  strengthened,  his  organization. 
He  could  not  know  that  the  British  would  be  content  to  accept  their  defeat 
as  decisive ;  he  feared  they  might  attempt,  by  a  sudden  attack,  to  change 
their  willows  to  bays,  and  he  bent  every  energy  to  the  task  of  bringing  his 
defensive  disposals  to  the  best  possible  condition.  In  his  intent  he  was 
quite  right;  his  means  were  less  adequate.  His  mind  was  inc-  pable  of  mi 
nute  distinction  in  matter  of  motive.  He  did  not  give  due  weight  to  the  fact 
that  the  people  of  New  Orleans  were  aliens  in  everything  but  the  legal  obli 
gation  which  resulted  from  the  purchase  of  Louisiana.  Differing  in  blood, 
language,  religion,  traditions,  and  social  tone  from  the  remainder  of  the 
American  people;  knowing  little  and  caring  less  about  the  cause  of  quarrel 
between  England  and  the  United  States,  no  great  degree  of  active  enthu 
siasm  could  be  expected  of  them,  and,  so  long  as  they  did  not  obstruct  the 
operations  of  the  American  arm}',  they  should  have  been  acquitted  of  fault. 
Jackson  could  not  recogni/e  the  possibility  of  indifference  ;  every  man  who 
\v  is  not  with  him,  he  conceived  to  be  against  him.  While  in  the  immediate 
presence  of  war,  the  French  had  waived  the  special  privileges  and  immuni 
ties  guaranteed  them  for  twelve  years  by  the  treat}'  of  transfer;  the}'  had 
housed  the  arm}',  contributed  to  its  sustenance,  and  many  of  them  served 
in  its  ranks.  When,  the  battle  being  fought,  and  the  enemy  withdrawn, 
they  found  the  irksome  restrictions  of  martial  law,  and  the  even  more  irk 
some  demands  of  military  support  and  service  continued,  many  of  them 
pleaded  their  nationality,  and  claimed  their  immunities  as  Frenchmen. 
Jackson  regarded  this  as  an  evasion  of  common  duty;  he  had  all  the  spirit 
of  Louis  ic  Grand,  expressed  in  the  words  "  f  ctat  cst  mot" ;  laws,  treaties, 
even  constitutions,  lost  their  binding  force  over  his  mind,  and  often  over  his 
acts  when  they  clashed  with  his  inclination  or  thwarted  his  plans.  Conse 
quently,  he  was  arrogant,  overbearing,  and  oppressive. 

In  September,  1814,  there  had  been  a  mutiny  among  the  American 
militia,  two  hundred  of  whom  deserted  in  a  body,  and  set  out  for  their 
homes.  Most  of  these  afterward  returned,  some  under  compulsion,  others 
voluntarily.  Six  of  the  men  who  had  been  most  prominent  in  fomenting 


59^  ANDREW    JACKSON. 

the  revolt  were  tried  by  court  martial  and  sentenced  to  death.  This  sen 
tence  was  carried  into  effect  by  the  order  of  Jackson,  on  the  2ist  day  of 
February.  On  the  i8th  of  that  month  Edward  Livingston  returned  from 
an  embassy  to  the  British  commander,  on  board  the  fleet.  He  brought  with 
him  news  of  the  treaty  of  Ghent,  received,  it  is  true,  from  a  British  source, 
but  bearing  at  least  a  presumption  of  truth.  This  announcement  was  not 
sufficient  to  excuse  any  neglect  of  the  strictest  precautions  of  war,  as  it 
might  have  been  simply  intended  as  a  cover  for  some  bold  coup  de  main,  but 
it  not  only  excused,  but  demanded,  a  modification  of  Jackson's  course 
toward  the  citizens  of  New  Orleans,  and  the  reprieve  of  the  six  homesick 
militiamen  who  were  executed  three  days  later.  The  only  justification  of 
punishing  desertion  by  death,  is  the  necessity  of  preserving  the  discipline  of 
an  army  in  the  face  of  an  enemy,  and  the  clemency  of  the  executive  would 
doubtless  have  commuted  the  sentence  of  these  men,  had  Jackson  permitted 
it  to  be  invoked. 

Jackson  did  not,  however,  in  the  least  alter  his  policy  by  reason  of  this 
Views  ;  on  the  28th  day  of  February  he  issued  an  order,  commanding  all 
who  had  certificates  of  French  nationality  to  leave  the  city  and  go  to  Baton 
Rouge,  on  or  before  the  3d  day  of  March,  insisting  that  he  would  have  no 
one  within  its  limits  who  was  not  under  obligations  to  assist  in  its  defense. 
He  had  the  grace,  however,  to  alter  his  mind,  and,  on  the  8th  of  March, 
rescinded  the  order,  except  as  to  the  French  consul.  On  the  3d  day  of 
March,  one  Louaillier  contributed  to  a  French  newspaper  an  article  in  which 
he  made  public  the  British  report  as  to  the  treaty  of  Ghent,  and  made  it 
the  basis  of  a  criticism  of  Jackson's  order  of  February  28th,  and  a  demand 
that  civil  law  be  replaced.  Jackson  was  infuriated  by  this  publication,  and 
caused  the  editor  of  the  paper  to  be  arrested  and  brought  before  him  ;  the 
latter,  to  save  himself,  revealed  the  name  of  his  contributor,  and  Louaillier, 
who  during  the  continuance  of  hostilities,  had  been  a  warm  and  valuable 
advocate  of  active  defense,  was  arrested  and  placed  in  confinement.  Judge 
Hall,  of  the  United  States  district  court,  upon  the  application  of  friends  of 
Louaillier,  granted  a  writ  of  habeas  corpus.  On  the  6th  day  of  March  came 
a  courier  from  Washington,  bearing  news  of  the  peace.  By  some  oversight 
he  did  not  bring  the  announcement  in  what  Jackson  deemed  an  official  form, 
and  in  spite  of  absolute  moral  certainty  as  to  the  truth  of  his  statement,  the 
commander,  blinded  by  personal  feeling  and  deaf  to  reason,  refused  to 
recognize  him,  and,  on  the  same  day,  organized  a  court  martial  for  the  trial 
of  Louaillier.  To  this  he  caused  to  be  presented  a  list  of  formal  charges. 
On  the  same  day  he  sent  an  officer  to  arrest  Judge  Hall,  and  to  compel  the 
clerk  of  the  court  to  surrender  the  original  habeas  corpus,  which,  as  a  por 
tion  of  the  public  record,  was  especially  within  the  protection  of  the  gov 
ernment.  The  court  martial  struck  out  every  charge  against  Louaillier 
except  one  of  illegal  and  improper  conduct,  and  acquitted  him  upon  that. 


TO    THE    BATTLE    OF    NEW    ORLEANS. 

Jackson  was  even  more  indignant  at  a  court  martial  which  dared  disagree 
with  him,  than  at  the  prisoner  which  it  was  called  upon  to  try.  With  char 
acteristic  inconsistency  he  discharged  his  militia  on  the  8th,  deeming 
the  information  received  sufficient  to  warrant  him  in  so  doing;  yet  he  sent 
Judge  Hall  out  of  the  city  under  an  escort,  discharging  him  four  miles  from 
its  limits,  and  re-committed  Louaillier  to  confinement,  not  releasing  him 
until  came  the  formal  documentary  announcement  of  the  peace. 

On  the  2 1st  day  of  March,  Jackson  was  cited  by  the  United  States 
court  to  show  cause  why  he  should  not  be  punished  for  contempt,  in  dis 
obeying  the  orders  of  the  court,  in  wresting  from  it  an  original  document, 
.uul  in  arresting  and  imprisoning  the  judge.  He  declined  to  make  any  rcg- 
alar  and  formal  defense, — as,  indeed,  how  could  he  ? — and  was  fined  oi.e 
thousand  dollars.  Some  persons  resident  in  New  Orleans,  who  had  not  felt  the 
weight  of  his  hand,  offered  to  pay  this  fine,  but  he  preferred  to  discharge  it 
Himself.  It  was  a  just  punishment,  only  objectionable  in  that  it  was  not 
sufficiently  severe.  There  was  little  u.son  for  the  arrest  of  Louaillier  in 
the  first  instance,  but  this  might  have  been  excused  <-n  the  ground  of  the 
necessary  discretion  of  a  commander  administering  martial  law.  When  the 
duties  of  an  officer  are  thus  discretionary  he  is,  however,  in  a  manner  held 
to  stricter  accountability  than  if  acting  under  definite  instructions;  the 
notice  of  the  peace  received  by  Jackson  trom  the  courier  was  sufficient  to 
Impose  upon  him  the  duty  of  restoring  Louaillier  to  his  liberty,  replacing 
the  judge  in  authority,  and  obeying  the  mandates  of  the  court,  even  had 
l.is  previous  action  been  defensible.  It  was  reserved  for  John  Tyler,  the 
most  insignificant  and  farcical  President  of  the  United  States,  to  recommend 
the  remitting  of  this  fine  and  refunding  it  to  Jackson.  This  measure  was  as 
arrant  a  piece  of  political  juggling  as  was  ever  attempted.  Congress  was 
then  excellently  constituted  to  receive  such  a  proposition  with  favor,  and  in 
1844  the  sum  of  82,700,  being  the  amount  of  the  fine  with  accrued  interest, 
was  extracted  from  the  treasury  and  paid  to  Jackson.  Dallas,  who  was 
secretary  of  war  during  the  New  Orleans  campaign,  wrote  Jackson  a  letter  in 
which  he  expressed  the  surprise  of  the  President  at  the  reports  of  his  actions 
which  had  reached  Washington,  and  called  for  particulars  and  an  explanation. 
The  war  was,  however,  over  ;  the  joy  at  the  peace,  and  the  enthusiasm 
regarding  Jackson,  the  victorious  general,  were  too  much  for  this  never  very 
vigorous  inquiry,  and  it  never  developed  to  results. 

The  war  being  over  Jackson  replaced  New  Orleans  in  the  possession  of 
its  autonomy,  and  set  out  for  Nashville,  his  home.  At  that  place  he  was 
met  with  the  utmost  enthusiasm,  which  showed  itself  in  a  formal  reception 
and  a  public  meeting  in  the  court  house.  This  enthusiasm  was  only  more 
emphatic  than  that  shown  at  other  points.  In  many  states  legislative  reso 
lutions  of  approval  and  thanks  were  passed,  and  Congress  took  its  cue,  pass 
ing  similar  resolutions  and  voting  a  gold  medal  to  Jackson,  in  commemora- 


598  ANDREW    JACKSON. 

tion  of  the  victory  at  New  Orleans.  Called  to  Washington,  he  was  accoided 
public  honors  at  every  important  place  upon  the  way.  If  ever  the  actions 
of  man  can  be  placed  beyond  cavil  and  criticism  by  the  popular  approval  of 
the  hour,  Jackson  is  entitled  to  the  expunging  of  his  foolish  abuse  of  oower 
in  New  Orleans  from  the  record  of  his  case. 

This  visit  to  Washington  was  made  in  the  autumn  of  1815,  and  its 
object  was  to  consult  as  to  the  peace  footing  of  the  army.  As  an  index  of 
the  extent  of  the  popularity  which  a  single  victory  had  won  for  a  man  who 
but  a  few  weeks  before  had  been  little  known  beyond  the  borders  of  the 
new  state  of  Tennessee,  it  is  interesting  to  note  that,  so  early  as  the  time  of 
this  visit  to  Washington, — in  1816,  Jackson  was  named  as  an  available  can 
didate  for  the  presidency,  and  it  is  still  more  interesting  to  note  that  this 
suggestion  was  received  and  considered,  though  made  by  the  traitor,  Aaron 
Burr,  then  living  in  retirement  at  New  York  city,  only  gaining  his  liberty 
by  the  indulgence  of  the  government,  and  his  own  insignificance.  The  fol 
lowing  quotations  will  show  the  tenor  of  the  matter.  The  first  is  from  a 
letter  written  by  Burr  to  his  son-in-law,  ex-governor  Allston  of  South  Caro 
lina,  under  date  of  November  15,  1815:  "Nothing  is  wanting,"  says  he, 
"  but  a  respectable  nomination  before  the  proclamation  cf  the  Virginia  cau 
cus,  and  Jackson's  success  is  inevitable.  Jackson  is  on  his  way  to  Washing 
ton.  If  you  should  have  any  confidential  friend  among  the  members  of 
Congress  from  your  state,  charge  him  to  caution  Jackson  against  the  per 
fidious  caresses  with  which  he  will  be  overwhelmed  at  Washington."  On 
the  i  ith  day  of  December,  Burr  wrote  to  Allston,  saying  that,  since  his  last, 
"  things  are  wonderfully  advanced  ;  there  wrill  require  a  letter  from  yourself 
and  others,  advising  Jackson  what  is  doing — that  communications  have 
been  had  with  the  northern  states,  requiring  him  only  to  be  passive,  and 
asking  from  him  a  list  of  persons  to  whom  you  may  address  your  letters." 
Colonel  Allston's  reply  to  this  second  letter  was  written  February  16,  1816, 
and  informs  Burr  that  his  communication  was  duly  received  in  January  ; 
he  adds:  "too  late,  of  course,  had  circumstances  been  ever  so  favorable  to 
be  acted  upon  in  the  manner  proposed.  I  fully  coincide  with  you  in  senti 
ment,  but  the  spirit,  the  energy,  and  the  health  necessary  to  give  practical 
effect  to  sentiment  are  all  gone.  I  feel  too  much  alone  ;  too  entirely  uncon 
nected  with  the  world  to  take  much  interest  in  anything."  The  advocacy 
of  Burr  was,  fortunately  for  Jackson,  a  covert  one.  It  is  not  apt  to  assist 
the  cause  of  any  man,  if  it  be  publicly  known  that  the  devil  is  retained  as 
his  counsel,  yet  enough  is  seen  in  these  glimpses  of  the  political  manipula 
tion  of  1815,  to  show  that  the  embryo  Jackson  movement  was  not  regarded 
as  beyond  the  hope  of  a  happy  issue,  and  it  is  certain  that  never,  from  1816 
to  1828,  was  Jackson  without  a  skilful  and  determined  following  of  men  who 
were  devoted  to  the  plan  of  making  him  President.  He  was  well  satisfied 
with  the  nomination  of  Monroe,  which  he  would  have  much  preferred  to  that 


TO    THE    BATTLE    OF    NEW    ORLEANS. 


599 


of  Madison  in  1808,  but  he  was  soon  called  to  the  south,  and  engrossment 
in  his  duties  as  commander  of  the  department  forbade  his  taking  an  active 
part  in  the  campaign.  Most  important  of  these  duties  was  the  negotiation 
of  a  treaty  with  the  Indians  of  the  southern  states,  which  resulted  in  the  reces 
sion  by  them  of  certain  lands  surrendered  at  the  close  of  the  Creek  war,  but 
given  up  by  the  government  upon  the  representation  of  the  Chickasaws  that 
the  treaty  was  injurious  and  unjust  to  them.  The  fact  that  this  modification 
by  the  administration  of  one  of  his  treaties,  was  carried  out  by  Crawford  as 
secretary  of  war,  formed  the  basis  of  one  of  the  inveterate  and  unchangeable 
hatreds  which  marked  Jackson's  life,  and  this  fact  was  sufficient,  had  other 
motives  been  lacking,  to  insure  his  adherence  to  Monroe.  It  was  one  of  his 
characteristics,  that  he  would  support  a  stranger  to  injure  an  enemy,  with 
as  much  energy  as  he  would  support  a  friend  to  gratify  himself. 

It  was  at  this  period  of  Jackson's  life  that  there  appeared  a  man  who, 
acting  always  in  the  dark  and  beneath  the  surface,  probably  did  more  to 
advance  him  to  the  presidency  and  to  shape  his  policy  after  his  election  than 
any  other.  This  person  was  William  B.  Lewis,  a  neighbor  and  intimate 
friend  of  Jackson,  and  husband  of  one  of  Mrs.  Jackson's  nieces.  He  was  a 
very  singular  man  ;  of  his  personal  life  and  ambitions  we  know  little  or 
nothing.  He  seemed  to  confine  the  latter  to  pushing  Jackson  into  power, 
and  managing  him  afterward.  He  was  a  subtle  and  far  sighted  man  ;  he 
could  draw  a  letter  or  message  that  would  condense  a  whole  system  of 
political  philosophy  in  a  few  lines,  or,  if  occasion  demanded,  could  cover 
pages  with  graceful  and  specious  platitudes,  sufficient  to  deceive  any  but  a 
careful  analyst,  without  in  fact  making  one  definite  and  tangible  declara 
tion.  There  will  hereafter  be  sufficient  occasion  to  speak  of  this  wily  prime 
minister  of  the  "kitchen  cabinet";  it  is  now  enough  to  explain  his  first  dis 
coverable  connection  with  Jackson's  public  life.  In  October,  1816,  a  letter 
purporting  to  be  from  the  pen  of  Jackson  was  forwarded  to  Monroe,  urging 
the  appointment  of  William  B.  Drayton,  of  South  Carolina,  to  be  secretary 
of  war.  The  object  of  this  letter,  which  was  written  by  Lewis,  is  impossi 
ble  to  discover,  unless  we  are  content  with  the  explanation  that  Lewis  had 
already  begun  the  manufacture  of  capital  for  Jackson,  in  which  he  was  later 
so  largely  and  profitably  engaged.  Drayton  was  even-thing  that  Jackson 
was  not, — a  member  of  the  South  Carolina  aristocracy ;  a  polished  and 
fastidious  gentleman,  and,  above  all,  a  federalist.  In  after  years  Jackson 
declared  that  he  did  not  know  Drayton  in  1816,  and  it  is  quite  probable  he 
did  not  himself  fully  appreciate  the  import  of  the  letter  when  he  wrote  it. 
Two  apparently  incidental  features  of  the  communication  did  good  service 
for  Jackson  in  1824,  and  had  no  little  effect  in  1828.  The  first  of  them  was 
the  declaration  that,  had  he  (Jackson)  been  in  command  of  the  eastern 
department  in  1815,  he  would  have  hanged  the  leaders  of  the  Hartford  con 
vention  ;  the  second,  the  advice  to  Monroe  to  cease  the  proscription  of  the 


COO  ANDREW    JACKSOI4. 

federalists  as  such,  and  to  distribute  offices  among  the  good  men  of  both 
parties,  in  a  spirit  of  conciliation.  This  latter  is  very  amusing  in  the  light 
of  history,  and  there  is  no  question  that  Lewis,  then  as  later,  caused  Jack 
son,  for  political  effect,  to  subscribe  a  piece  of  arrant  and  deliberate  hypoc 
risy.  Drayton  was  not  appointed.  Monroe  wrote  Jackson  acknowledging 
the  abstract  truth  and  justice  of  his  propositions,  but  urging  political  neces 
sity  as  an  excuse  for  keeping  the  loaves  and  fishes  for  republican  consump 
tion.  The  letter  fell  into  oblivion,  from  which  it  would  probably  never  have 
emerged,  had  the  Jackson  propaganda  not  made  artful  use  of  it  in  later 
years,  to  secure  the  votes  of  federalists,  and  this  was  doubtless  its  sole  raisoii 
d'  ctrc.  The  following  in  an  extract  from  the  letter: 

"Your  happiness  and  the  nation's  welfare  materially  depend  upon  the 
selections  which  are  to  be  made  to  fill  the  heads  of  departments.  Every 
thing  depends  on  the  selection  of  your  ministry.  In  every  selection  party 
and  party  feelings  should  be  avoided.  Now  is  the  time  to  exterminate  that 
monster  called  party  spirit.  by  selecting  characters  most  conspicuous  for 
their  probity,  virtue,  capacity,  and  firmness,  without  regard  to  party,  you 
will  go  far  to,  if  not  entirely,  eradicate  those  feelings  which,  on  former 
occasions,  threw  so  many  obstacles  in  the  way  of  government  ;  and  perhaps 
have  the  pleasure  and  honor  of  uniting  a  people  heretofore  politically  divided. 
The  chief  magistrate  of  a  great  and  powerful  nation  should  never  indulge  in 
party  feelings.  His  conduct  should  be  liberal  and  disinterested,  always  bear 
ing  in  mind  that  he  acts  for  the  whole  and  not  part  of  the  community." 
How  closely  this  advice  was  followed  by  Jackson  himself,  when  he  came  to 
the  presidential  chair,  future  pages  will  illustrate. 


TACKsON    IN    FLORIDA. 


CHAPTER  III. 

JACKSON  IN  FLORIDA— HIS  PRESIDENTIAL  CAMPAIGN  AND  ELECTION. 

""*HK  irritation  of  Jackson  against  Crawford  has  already  been  mentioned; 
it  was  no  doubt  reciprocal,  and  during  the  year  1817,  led  Jackson 
into  a  series  of  hast}'  and  ill-considered  acts,  such  as  constantly  re-appear  in 
the  story  of  his  life.  Crawford  was  secretary  of  war  in  Madison's  cabinet 
and,  although  he  had  been  a  strong  opponent  of  Monroe  in  caucus,  was  con 
tinued  in  that  office  until  he  received  the  treasury  portfolio  in  the  cabinet  of 
the  latter.  During  his  administration  of  the  war  office,  he  on  several  occa 
sions  gave  orders  to  general  officers  ot  the  southern  departments,  without 
consulting  Jackson,  and,  as  a  matter  of  course,  this  assumption  of  direct 
control  often  deranged  the  plans  of  the  commander,  and  served  to  vex  him 
beyond  the  point  of  discretion.  On  the  ijth  of  April,  1817,  Jackson  issued 
a  general  order,  instructing  his  subordinates  to  disregard  any  orders  of  the 
war  department,  not  promulgated  through  department  headquarters.  There 
was  certainly  every  reason  for  Jackson's  feeling  upon  the  subject,  but  this 
public  defiance  of  his  superiors,  without  any  previous  effort  to  remedy  the 
evil,  was  as  certainlv  indentation  of  discipline,  and  had  Crawford  not  uiven 

*  i"-> 

place  to  Calhoun,  it  is  quite  likely  that  an  effort  might  have  been  made  for 
his  punishment.  Calhoun  overlooked  the  offense  and  recognized  the  justice 
of  the  complaint  by  communicating  concerning  the  affairs  of  the  department, 
only  with  Jackson.  General  Scott,  who  was  an  advocate  of  the  strictest  mili 
tary  etiquette  and  discipline,  learning  of  Jackson's  order,  expressed  unre 
served  disapproval  of  it.  Jackson,  in  some  manner,  heard  that  Scott  had 
denounced  his  action  as  traitorous,  and  at  once  wrote  a  letter  in  the  sharpest 
terms  calling  Scott  to  account.  This  Scott  answered,  admitting  in  sub 
stance  the  use  of  the  words  complained  of,  but  urging  that  they  were  uttered 
in  private  conversation.  Jackson  replied,  very  abusive!}' ;  the  correspond 
ence  became  less  decorous  and,  finally,  Jackson  came  to  his  ultimatum  in  an 
argument,  a  challenge  to  fight.  Scott  replied  that  religious  scruples  and 


6O2  ANDREW    JACKSON. 

patriotic  motives  united  in  preventing  him  from  engaging  in  a  duel ;  then 
the  letters  of  both  were  published.  Thus  a  matter  of  personal  feeling  and 
wounded  pride  led  Jackson  into  a  succession  of  wrong  headed  acts,  which 
affected  the  war  department,  the  reputation  of  the  leading  general  officers  of 
the  army  and  his  own  private  standing,  when  a  little  forbearance  would  have 
remedied  the  matter  in  the  beginning.  Such  episodes  as  these  cast  much 
light  upon  Jackson's  peculiar  and  contradictory  character,  especially  neces 
sary  in  studying  his  presidential  career,  as  it  enables  one  to  judge  what  of 
his  action  was  spontaneous,  and  what  emanated  from  the  basement  stateman- 
ship  of  the  "Kitchen  cabinet.  " 

The  Florida  war  was  at  hand,  and  in  no  event  of  our  national  history, 
save  perhaps  the  later  war  with  Mexico,  is  there  so  much  to  regret.  The 
doctrine  of  manifest  destiny,  that  cover  for  covetousness  and  excuse  for 
theft,  was  effective  to  its  precipitation,  but  as  a  means,  not  as  a  primary 
cause.  The  slave  power  was  behind  and  above  it  all,  and  the  greed  of  land 
speculation  came  next.  Georgia  had  lost  many  slaves  who  found  refuge  in 
the  everglades ;  these  deep  retreats  in  alien  territory  were  as  a  city  of  refuge 
to  fugitive  bondmen.  The  whole  south,  the  Carolinas  and  Georgia  in  par 
ticular,  having  gone  far  with  the  spoliation  of  the  Creeks,  Cherokees,  and 
Chickasaws,  were  mad  with  the  greed  for  further  plunder.  Some  of  the 
fugitives  of  the  Creek  war  had  escaped  Jackson's  fire  and  sword  and,  like 
the  negroes,  had  found  refuge  in  Florida.  Both  black  and  red  men  had  been 
received  by  the  peaceful  Seminoles,  and  many  intermarriages  had  done  much 
to  merge  the  tribes  and  races,  and  this  very  new  community  of  interest  con 
centrated  the  hatred  and  the  determination  of  the  Georgians  to  possess  the 
land.  The  closing  year  of  the  war  of  1812  gave  a  pretext,  which,  had  it 
been  used,  would  have  given  color  of  justice  to  the  invasion.  The  British, 
as  has  been  said,  made  use  of  Florida  as  a  base  of  operations  against  Louis 
iana.  Spain  was  not  strongly  enough  represented  in  her  province  to  pre 
vent  this  breach  of  neutrality,  had  she  so  desired.  The  British  officers  were 
licentious  and  irresponsible,  and  their  movements  upon  the  frontiers  of 
the  United  States  gave  ample  excuse  for  the  demand  of  indemnity  or  of 
Florida  from  Spain.  This  opportunity  was  not  embraced,  yet  the  grievance 
was  still  felt,  and  the  people  of  the  south  felt  that  they  had  cause  of  quarrel 
with  the  negro  population  of  Florida,  that  they  were  fugitives  from  their 
lawful  owners ;  with  the  Creeks  that  they  had  escaped  punishment ;  with  the 
Seminoles  that  they  had  given  the  Creeks  and  negroes  harbor;  with  the 
Spaniards,  that  they  had  not  maintained  neutrality  during  the  war  with 
England.  These  were  the  grounds  upon  which  the  war  was  sought  to  be 
justified.  It  was  precipitated  by  a  succession  of  outrages,  small  and  great, 
committed  by  lawless  people  on  either  side  of  the  border;  there  was  wrong 
on  each  side,  and  to  balance  it  was  then  difficult  and  is  now  impossible.  The 
English,  during  their  occupation  of  Florida,  had  constructed  a  fort  about 


JACKSON    IX    FLORIDA.  603 

fifteen  miles  from  the  mouth  of  the  Appalachicola  river ;  at  the  cessation  of 
hostilities  it  had  been  taken  possession  of  by  a  bodyof  negroes  and  a  few 
Creeks,  who  appropriated  the  arms  and  ammunition  left  by  the  Spaniards, 
and  held  the  post  as  a  garrison. 

During  1816,  the  United  States  received  permission  from  the  Spanish 
governor  to  convey  in  boats,  up  the  Appalachicola,  materials  for  the  con 
struction  of  a  fort  in  Georgia.  Some  state  that,  in  passing  the  negro  fort, 
one  of  these  boats  was  fired  upon  by  those  within,  others  that  the  first  shot 
came  from  the  boat ;  at  all  events,  some  one  fired,  the  fort  was  bombarded; 
a  hot  shot  exploded  the  magazine,  and,  of  the  three  hundred  inmates, — 
men,  women,  and  children, — two  hundred  and  seventy  were  killed  outright, 
while  the  few  who  escaped  from  the  ruins  were  massacred  by  the  Indian 
allies  of  the  Americans.  This  occurrence  was  rather  a  relief  to  the  Spanish 
governor,  who  had  not  been  too  well  pleased  at  having  so  formidable  a 
work  within  his  jurisdiction,  and  in  the  hands  of  negroes. 

Spain  was  at  that  time  at  war  with  her  revolted  American  colonies, 
and  the  occasion  was  taken  by  pirates  and  freebooters  to  ply  their  trade 
against  the  vessels  of  whatever  nation  came  in  their  way,  under  cover  of  a 
pretended  service  in  the  cause  of  the  provinces.  Amelia  island,  upon  the 
coast  of  Florida,  was  the  headquarters  of  such  a  band  of  filibusters,  pirates, 
smugglers,  ready  for  anything  and  everything  that  promised  a  profit,  and  it 
was  deemed  necessary  to  the  protection  of  the  commerce  of  the  United 
States  to  put  a  stop  to  it  ;  hence  the  island  was  occupied  by  the  United 
States,  and  the  band  scattered.  All  these  occurrences  united  to  bring  on 
the  war.  Spain  had  not  the  force,  with  all  other  demands  upon  her,  to  pre 
serve  order  in  Forida,  yet  she  was  jealous  of  the  United  States,  and  resented 
any  trespass  or  intervention,  however  slight.  Word  of  the  successive  events 
thus  hastily  sketched  was  sent  to  Washington,  and  disseminated  through  the 
press  of  the  north,  by  interested  persons,  always  exaggerated  and  distorted 
to  make  it  appear  that  every  aggression  came  from  the  Spanish  side  of  the 
line ;  that  the  Georgians  were  weak  and  abused  victims  of  the  outrages  of 
a  powerful  and  barbarous  enemy,  and  that  the  very  existence  of  the  southern 
border  states  depended  upon  the  intervention  of  the  strong  arm  of  the  fed 
eral  government. 

This  was  the  condition  of  affairs  at  the  beginning  of  1817  ;  during  that 
year  the  border  outrages  increased,  responsibility  for  them  being  still  very 
equally  divided.  On  the  2Oth  of  November,  General  Gaines,  commanding, 
under  Jackson,  upon  the  frontier,  sent  a  force  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  men 
to  Fowltown,  the  principal  village  of  the  hostile  Creeks.  As  the  detach 
ment  approached,  it  was  fired  upon,  and  in  retaliation  captured  and  burned 
the  town  after  a  protracted  fight.  There  seems  to  have  been  no  better 
reason  for  this  expedition  than  the  refusal  of  the  Creek  chief  to  comply  with 
a  summons  of  Gaines  to  come  to  his  headquarters  and  tell  whether  or  no 


604  ANDREW    JACKSON. 

he  was  less  hostile  than  before.  With  the  fight  at  Fowltown  began  the 
Seminole  war  ;  the  Indians  and  negroes  arose,  attacked  boats  ascending  the 
Appalachicola,  and  cut  off  straggling  Americans  wherever  they  could 
encounter  them. 

When  news  reached  the  war  department  of  this  affair,  Jackson  was 
instructed  to  take  personal  command  in  Georgia.  Immediately  upon  receiv 
ing  this  order  he  hastened  to  comply,  and  dispatched  a  letter  to  Monroe  : 
"  Let  it  be  signified  to  me  through  any  channel,  (say  Mr.  J.  Rhea),  that  the 
possession  of  the  Floridas  would  be  desirable  to  the  United  States,  and  in 
sixty  days  it  will  be  accomplished."  This  letter  afterwards  played  an 
important  part  in  Jackson's  career  ;  Monroe  was  ill  and  absent  from  Wash 
ington.  He  always  disavowed  knowledge  of  the  Rhea  letter,  and  it  is  highly 
improbable  that  he  ever  received  it.  Jackson  claimed  to  have  received  from 
Rhea  a  letter  in  which  the  writer  stated  that  the  President  approved  of  the 
suggestion  conveyed  ;  but  he  never  produced  the  letter  during  the  contro 
versy  of  after  years.  He  construed  Calhoun's  orders,  however,  upon  an 
assumption  that  the  secretary  of  war  knew  of  his  letter  and  was  agreed  with 
the  President  in  approving  it.  It  will  be  seen  that  Jackson  had  as  few 
1  constitutional  scruples  "  in  1817,  as  when  he  first  took  command  of  the 
Tennessee  militia,  previous  to  the  Creek  war,  and  when  he  moved  from 
Mobile  against  Pcnsacola. 

In  the  meantime  Jackson  was  busy  in  constructing  a  contingent  army 
rrom  the  militia  of  Tennessee  and  Georgia,  which  he  gathered  with  his 
accustomed  vigor,  then  made  a  forced  march  to  the  frontier,  arriving  there 
in  March,  1818.  A  portion  of  his  provisions  he  dispatched  to  Fort  Scott, 
by  the  Appalachicola,  sending  word  to  the  Spanish  governor  that  if  any  of 
these  boats  were  molested  or  hindered,  he  should  regard  it  as  an  act  of  hos 
tility  to  the  United  States.  He  then  advanced  and  captured  St.  Marks. 
Sumner  says :  "Jackson's  proceedings  were  based  upon  two  positive  but 
arbitrary  assumptions  :  (i)  That  the  Indians  got  aid  and  encouragement 
from  St.  Marks  and  Pensacola.  (This  the  Spaniards  always  denied,  but 
perhaps  a  third  assumption  of  Jackson  might  be  mentioned  ;  that  the  word 
of  a  Spanish  official  was  of  no  value.)  (2)  That  Great  Britain  kept  paid 
emissaries  stationed  in  Florida,  to  stir  up  trouble  in  the  United  States." 
There  is  not,  in  fact,  an  atom  of  evidence  tending  to  show  that  England 
was  ever  guilty  of  the  contemptible  acts  charged,  and,  in  the  absence  of 
such  evidence,  the  fact  that  the  entire  fighting  force  of  the  Creeks  and  Scm- 
inoles  did  not  number  two  thousand  men,  reduces  the  assumption  to  an 
absurdity.  Nicholas,  who  commanded  the  British  force  at  Pensacola,  in 
1815,  was  certainly  guilty  of  a  breach  of  neutrality,  but  his  offense  was 
rather  against  Spain  than  America;  he  as  certainly  encouraged  the  Indians, 
and  led  them  to  believe  that  they  might  hope  for  support  from  England, 
but  his  object  was  probably  to  obtain  their  immediate  assistance.  Certain 


JACKSON    IX    FLORIDA.  605 

it  is  that  England  censured  him  for  his  action,  and  disavowed  all  responsi 
bility  for  it.  The  worst  sin  of  Spain  in  the  matter  was  her  weakness,  which 
rendered  her  incapable  of  protecting  her  territory.  Jackson,  with  his  over 
whelming  force  of  eighteen  hundred  whites  and  fifteen  hundred  friendly 
Indians,  probably  quite  twice  the  entire  number  of  adult  male  hostiles  in 
Florida,  pushed  on  and  occupied  St.  Marks.  There  was  Alexander  Arbuth- 
not,  a  Scotchman,  seventy  years  of  age,  who  had  long  been  a  trader  among 
the  Indians  of  Florida.  With  the  wise  foresight  necessary  to  his  success  in 
trade,  he  had  made  the  Indians  his  friends;  he  had  advised  them  in  matters 
of  peace,  but  never,  s<>  far  as  can  be  learned,  in  any  warlike  emergency.  He 
had  told  the  Creeks  that  the  treaty  of  Ghent  had  guaranteed  them  the 
re-possession  of  their  lands,  and  so  much  reason  did  he  have  for  this  inter 
pretation,  that  it  required  no  little  diplomatic  skill  on  the  part  of  the  United 
States  to  secure  a  different  decision.  At  the  approach  of  Jackson's  army, 
Arbuthnot  mounted  his  horse  and  set  out  from  St.  Marks,  but  was  pursued, 
captured,  and  confined,  simply  because  he  was  a  white  man,  and  it  pleased 
the  general  to  suspect  him  of  being  an  emissary  of  England. 

Several  American  vessels  of  war  anchored  in  the  bay  of  St.  Marks, 
and,  by  hoisting  the  British  Hag,  enticed  two  Indian  chiefs  aboard.  Noth 
ing  appeared  against  these  men  but  that  they 'had  been  engaged  in  an  expedi 
tion  against  other  Indians,  conducted  after  the  accepteel  rules  of  Indian 
warfare,  and  that  a  number  of  their  enemies  had  been  massacred.  These 
chiefs,  thus  foully  entrapped  by  cunning  and  device,  were,  by  the  order  of 
Jackson,  hanged.  This  precious  specimen  of  civilized  warfare  completed, 
Jackson  moved  on  toward  the  Seminole  town  upon  the  Suwanee  river, 
where  lived  Boleck,  or  Hilly  Bowlegs,  the  principal  chief.  Arbuthnot  had 
a  trading  post  at  this  point.  Upon  learning  of  Jackson's  approach,  and 
before  his  own  arrest,  he  had  sent  word  to  his  son,  who  was  in  charge,  to 
remove  the  goods  to  a  place  of  safety,  and  to  advise  Holeck  not  to  resist 
the  coming  army.  Holeck  and  his  warriors  were  no  less  wise  than  Arbuth 
not,  and,  more  confident  of  Jackson's  clemency  when  out  of  his  reach  than 
when  in  his  power,  they  fled  to  the  deep  woods,  where  they  could  not  be 
pursued.  Hence,  when  the  Americans  reached  the  town,  they  found  only 
empty  and  deserted  lodges,  which  they  burned.  Jackson  was  furious  at 
being  thus  balked  of  his  prey;  he  charged  Arbuthnot  with  having  warned 
the  Indians,  and  there  is  no  question  that  the  doom  of  an  unfortunate  and 
innocent  man  was  sealed  by  this  disappointment.  While  in  this  unamiable 
frame  of  mind  Robert  Ambrister,  late  a  lieutenant  of  Hritish  marines,  was 
captured  in  the  neighborhood.  He  was  thirty-three  years  of  age,  and  seems 
to  have  been  an  adventurer,  left  in  the  track  of  a  retiring  army.  That  he 
was  a  worthless  fellow,  is  likely  enough ;  that  he  represented  the  British 
government,  or  anything,  or  person,  beyond  his  own  very  insignificant  self, 
is  beyond  the  limit  of  credence.  He  was,  however,  an  Englishman,  and 


606  ANDREW    JACKSON. 

tha.t  was  enough  for  Jackson,  who  placed  him  under  arrest  and  returned  to 
St.  Marks.  A  court-martial  was  immediately  organized  for  the  trial  of  Am- 
brister  and  Arbuthnot,  and  charges  were  formulated,  against  the  former  of 
inciting  the  Indians  and  levying  war  against  the  United  States ;  against  the 
latter  (i)  of  inciting  the  Creek  Indians  to  war  against  the  United  States,  (2) 
of  being  a  spy  and  aiding  the  English,  (3)  of  inciting  Indians  to  the  murder 
of  two  white  men  named.  It  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  no  war  existed 
at  this  time,  as  war  is  regarded  among  civilized  nations.  The  Indian  tribes 
not  recognized  as  nations  having  belligerent  rights,  or  as  having  any  rights  as 
citizens.  Had  the  so-called  Florida  war  been  fought  upon  American  territory, 
the  hostiles  would  have  ranked,  in  the  ordinary  sense,  not  as  enemies1;  certainly 
not  as  rebels.  This  being  the  condition  of  affairs,  there  is  grave  question 
whether  Arbuthnot  and  Ambrister  could  properly  have  been  held  to  strict 
accountability  for  the  acts  charged,  even  had  they  been  clearly  proven  guilty 
and  had  the  acts  been  committed  within  the  jurisdiction  of  the  United 
States.  In  fact,  Jackson  was  an  invader  upon  the  territory  of  a  friendly 
power — a  trespasser;  he  had  no  more  right  to  try  men  for  inciting  Indians 
to  hostility  in  Florida,  than  would  an  American  officer  of  to-day  have  to 
cross  the  border  of  her  majesty's  dominions,  arrest  and  try  an  Indian  trader 
or  a  casual  traveler  in  Manitoba  on  the  same  charge.  Two  necessary  con 
ditions  precedent  to  the  regularity  of  the  proceedings  were  lacking — a  state 
of  war  and  territorial  jurisdiction. 

The  trial  of  Arbuthnot  first  occurred,  and  he  was  found  guilty  upon  the 
first  charge  and  upon  the  second,  save  of  being  a  spy;  upon  the  third  he 
was  acquitted.  He  was  sentenced  to  be  hanged.  Ambrister  threw  him 
self  upon  the  mercy  of  the  court  and  was  sentenced  to  be  shot.  This  decis 
ion  was  later  reconsidered  and  the  sentence  modified  to  fifty  lashes  and  ore 
year's  imprisonment  at  hard  labor.  When  Jackson  heard  of  this  change  he 
was  furious,  and  demanded  that  the  original  sentence  be  restored.  The 
court  obediently  complied,  and  both  men  were  executed,  by  Jackson's  order, 
on  the  2Qth  day  of  April,  1818. 

The  minutes  of  these  trials  are  now  in  existence,*  and  the  sweeping 
assertion  may  be  made  that  not  the  smallest  atom  of  evidence  of  the  guilt 
of  Arbuthnot  can  be  discovered  and  that  none  was  produced.  His  pres 
ence  in  the  Spanish  province  of  Florida;  his  notice  to  his  son  to  remove 
their  stock  in  trade  across  the  Suwanee — these  were  all  the  facts  that  tended 
to  the  support  of  the  prosecution  ;  for  the  defense  this  very  letter  to  his 
son  spoke  loudly,  in  the  advice  given  to  Boleck  not  to  resist  the  advancing 
invaders.  So  far  as  Ambrister  is  concerned,  his  weak  and  misdirected  plea 
for  mercy  cuts  us  off  from  a  consideration  of  his  case  upon  its  merits,  -but 
this  was  doubtless  made  in  a  fit  of  terror,  and  there  is  not  the  slightest  rea 
son  for  believing  him  to  have  been  guilty  as  charged.  Aside  from  the  evi 

*Niles  Weekly  Register,  15-270. 


JACKSON    IN    FLORIDA.  607 

dence,  he  had  been  tried  for  his  life,  convicted,  sentenced  to  death,  and  his 
sentence  mitigated.  By  every  rule  of  law,  his  life,  thus  once  imperiled  and 
spared,  was  safe,  but  Jackson  intervened  and  insisted  upon  his  death.  Here 
were  two  men,  tried  by  a  court  without  jurisdiction,  in  the  territory  of  an 
alien  power,  with  which  the  United  States  was  at  peace;  convicted  without 
evidence,  and  hastily  executed  without  appeal.  No  blacker  crime  darkens 
the  pages  of  American  history,  and  Jackson,  as  its  inspirer,  aider,  and 
abettor,  was,  bjfore  God  and  the  tribunal  of  nations,  a  murderer. 

On  the  same  day  when  occurred  the  execution  of  these  two  unfortunate 
victims,  Jackson,  having  no  other  enemy  to  conquer,  and  deeming  the  "war" 
at  an  end,  set  out  upon  his  retrograde  march  for  the  Georgia  frontier,  leav 
ing  a  garrison  in  St.  Marks.  Some  one  told  him  that  Indians  had  taken 
refuge  in  Pensacola,  and,  upon  his  way,  he  turned  aside  and  took  possession 
of  that  place,  leaving  a  garrison  there  as  well.  General  Gaines  was  instructed 
to  seize  St.  Augustine  for  a  similar  offense,  and  with  this  parting  provision, 
the  general,  with  the  larger  part  of  his  army,  returned  to  American  soil. 

The  Florida  service  had  occupied  but  five  months,  and,  during  that 
time,  Jackson  had  broken  the  power  of  the  Indians,  established  the  peace 
of  the  frontiers,  and,  in  effect,  crushed  the  weak  authority  of  Spain  in  its 
own  province,  and  all  this  without  a  shadow  of  authority  from  the  President 
or  the  war  department,  either  laboring  under  a  very  extraordinary  mis 
understanding  in  connection  with  the  Rhea  letter,  or  moved  by  his  own  hot 
headed  and  unreasoning  ambition  for  conquest. 

This  was  the  close  of  Jackson's  active  military  life,  though  he  did  not 
take  leave  of  his  army  until  July  21,  1821.  His  whole  service  in  the  field, 
including  the  Creek  war,  the  southern  campaign  of  1815,  and  his  Florida 
expedition,  covered  a  period  of  but  twenty-three  months.  During  the  Creek 
war  he  led  a  superior  force  against  a  savage  enemy,  but  under  especial  dis 
advantages  of  organization  and  discipline,  which  made  the  task  a  difficult 
one,  and  well  entitled  him  to  great  credit  for  the  result.  At  New  Orleans 
he  advanced  his  force,  largely  composed  of  militia,  against  an  enemy 
splendidly  disciplined  and  equipped  and  more  numerous  than  his  own  army; 
every  circumstance  contributed  to  his  success — not  the  least  the  imbecility 
of  the  British  leaders.  There  was  no  finesse  or  strategy  in  the  battle,  and 
the  result,  as  compared  with  the  means,  has  no  parallel  more  recent  than 
Samson's  slaughter  of  the  Philistines  with  the  jaw-bone  of  an  ass.  In 
Florida, — but  enough  has  been  said  of  Florida. 

Jackson  won  the  reputation  of  being  a  great  general  more  cheaply  than 
has  any  other  military  personage  since  Joshua.  His  subjection  of  Florida 
was  as  easy  as  the  capture  of  Jericho;  his  victory  at  New  Orleans  could  not 
have  been  accomplished  by  generalship,  nor  without  the  intervention  of  all 
those  fortuitous  circumstances  which  make  up  what  men  call  good  luck. 

The  immediate  effect  of  the  Florida  campaign  was  to  erect  Jackson  upon 


6C8  ANDREW    JACKSON. 

a  pedestal,  from  which  he  has  never  descended.  He  was  regarded  by  the 
people  at  large  as  a  military  hero  ;  of  the  moral  aspects  of  the  case  they 
knew  little  and  thought  less,  and  so  strong  was  the  sentiment  in  his  favor, 
that  a  resolution  introduced  in  the  House,  censuring  him  for  the  execution 
of  Arbuthnot  and  Ambrister,  was  defeated. 

The  administration  of  Monroe  was  the  logical  result  of  those  which  had 
preceded  it.  The  United  Stales  of  that  day  may  be  here  described  by  a 
very  homely  simile.  It  was  a  ready  made  country;  its  constitution  was  the 
result  of  an  emergency,  and  its  rulers  were  called  into  power  untried  and 
uninstructed.  Before  1787  the  colonies  had  lived  only  such  a  life  as  taught 
subservience  ;  it  required  many  years  for  the  voun^  nation  to  recognize  its 

1  *       *  *  o  t> 

own  power.  The  administrations  of  Washington,  Adams,  Jefferson,  and 
Madison,  had  largely  effected  by  skillful  diplomacy,  what  might  have  been 
secured  by  a  peremptory  demand  ;  and  this  humility  as  to  the  foreign  policy, 
came  as  an  heritage  to  Monroe.  The  action  of  Jackson,  uncontemplated 
as  it  was,  produced  something  very  like  a  panic  in  the  cabinet.  It  had 
been  the  desire  to  win  Florida  by  dollars,  and  not  by  the  bayonet,  and  the 
forcing  of  a  direct  issue  with  Spain  and  of  a  serious  general  complication, 
was  a  little  too  much  for  the  nerves  of  Monroe  and  his  constitutional  advisers. 
Calhoun,  secretary  of  war,  was  much  displeased  at  Jackson's  course  ;  the 
President,  and  with  the  exception  of  John  Ouincy  Adams,  secretary  of  state, 
the  whole  cabinet,  were  of  the  same  mind.  The  general  inclination  was  for  the 
restoration  of  Florida  and  the  paying  of  any  reasonable  indemnity  to  Spain. 
Upon  Adams  would  fall  the  whole  burthen  of  a  contrary  course  if  such  were 
adopted,  and  this  he  boldly  took  upon  his  own  shoulders  and,  by  his  surpass 
ing  ability,  carried  the  cabinet  with  him,  smothering  the  personal  inclina 
tions  of  its  members  and  dictating  the  policy  of  the  administration.  Sumner 
well  states  the  attitude  of  affairs:  ''It  was  agreed  that  Pensacola  and  St. 
Marks  should  be  restored  to  Spain,  but  that  Jackson's  course  should  be 
approved  and  defended,  on  the  grounds  that  he  pursued  his  enemy  to  his 
refuge,  and  that  Spain  could  not  do  the  duty  which  devolved  on  her.  The 
President,  however,  countermanded  the  order  which  Jackson  had  given 
Gaines,  to  seize  St.  Augustine,  because  some  Indians  had  taken  refuge  there. 
All  the  members  of  the  cabinet  agreed  to  the  policy  decided  on,  and  all 
loyally  adhered  to  it,  the  secret  of  their  first  opinion  being  preserved  for  ten 
years.  Calhoun  wrote  Jackson,  according  to  agreement,  congratulating 
and  approving.  Jackson  inferred  that  Calhoun  had  been  his  friend  in  the 
cabinet  all  the  time,  and  that  his  old  enemy,  Crawford,  had  been  the  head 
of  the  hostile  party.  The  political  history  of  this  country  was  permanently 
affected  by  the  personal  relations  of  Jackson  to  Calhoun  and  Crawford  in 
that  matter.  Monroe  had  a  long  correspondence  with  Jackson  to  try  to  rec 
oncile  him  to  the  surrender  of  the  forts  to  Spain.  In  that  correspondence 
Jackson  did  not  mention  the  Rhea  letter.  " 


JACKSON    IN    FLORIDA.  609 

During  the  years  1818  and  1819  Jackson's  action  in  Florida  came  up 
in  Congress  as  a  political  question.  The  action  of  the  cabinet  had  clearly 
committed  the  administration  to  the  defense  of  Jackson  ;  and  Clay,  who  had 
become  the  recognized  leader  of  the  opposition,  took  the  matter  up  as  the 
most  available  subject  upon  which  charges  could  be  predicated.  It  is  quite 
evident  that  it  was  not  alone  the  reputation  of  the  administration,  or  yet  the 
military  responsibility  of  Jackson  that  was  at  stake.  The  four  men  below 
the  President  who  were  at  that  time  most  prominent  and  influential  in  affairs 
were,  Adams,  secretary  of  state  ;  Crawford,  secretary  of  the  treasury  ;  Cal- 
houn,  secretary  of  war;  and  Clay,  in  the  opposition.  All  of  these  men 
were  presidential  aspirants,  and  all  must,  at  that  time,  have  recognized  in 
Jackson  a  possible  competitor.  Working,  perhaps,  for  the  same  end,  but 
influenced  by  various  feelings  and  alliances,  the  outward  manifestation  of  a 
common  desire  was  very  different.  Clay's  attitude  has  been  stated.  Adams 
had  staked  his  reputation  upon  justifying  Jackson  to  Europe  ;  the  t\vo  were 
ostensibly  friends,  and  the  name  of  Adams  for  President  with  Jackson  for 
Vice  President,  was  commonly  suggested  ;  Calhoun,  as  secretary  of  war, 
was  in  a  measure  complicated  in  the  affair;  he  coind  not  oppose  Jackson, 
maintain  the  secrecy  of  cabinet  deliberations  and,  at  tl\e  same  time,  clear 
his  own  skirts  of  responsibility  ;  hence  his  general  effort  was  coincident  with 
that  of  Adams.  Crawford  hated  Calhoun,  hated  Jackson,  regarded  Adams 
as  a  rival,  and,  hence,  worked  earnestly  in  the  cause  of  the  opposition.  The 
Senate  committee  regarding  the  Seminole  war  reported  adversely  to  Jack 
son  from  the  beginning  of  his  recruiting  service  until  the  close  of  the  Flor 
ida  campaign,  but  at  this  point,  the  matter  passed  from  the  hands  of  the 
legislative  to  that  of  the  executive  branch  of  government,  and  no  further 
step  was  ever  taken  in  the  matter. 

Adams  made  a  very  ingenious  and  specious  defense  of  the  government, 
so  far  as  it  was  involved  in  the  matter  of  the  enticing  and  execution  of  the 
two  Seminole  chiefs,  and  the  death  of  Arbuth'not  and  Ambristcr.  No 
advocate  ever  pleaded  a  wrongful  case  more  plausibly  and  successfully. 
The  result  of  all  was  the  purchase  of  Florida  by  the  United  States.  In 
thus  obtaining  title  to  the  land  and  its  appurtenances,  America  may  be  said 
to  have  acquired,  as  well,  all  claims  of  Spain  for  territorial  injuries,  and  such 
were  merged  in  the  title,  and  were  thus  forever  set  at  rest,  leaving  only  the 
shameful  wrongs  of  Creeks  and  Seminoles  and  the  judicial  murders  of  the 
war,  to  cry  out  from  the  soil  of  the  flowery  land,  as  a  perennial  reproach  to 
the  United  States.  The  annexation  of  Florida  was  a  hasty  and  short 
sighted  measure  in  at  least  one  particular.  Beyond  the  Mississippi  and  to 
the  Rio  Grande,  stretched  the  wild  and  little  known  territory  of  Spain, 
which  now  forms  the  state  of  Texas.  There  were  sticklers  even  at  thai 
time,  fora  "  scientific  boundary,"  yet  these  could  not  see  in  the  wild  and 
savage  miles  beyond  the  Mississippi  anything  worth  the  having,  and,  while 


6lO  ANDREW    JACKSON. 

it  might  have  been  Dought  for  a  trifle,  and  thus  have  saved  the  commission 
of  a  great  wrong  and  the  waging  of  a  needless  war,  it  was  held  as  of  little 
consequence  by  either  Spain  or  America,  and  remained  under  the  jurisdic 
tion  of  the  latter.  The  cursory  reader  of  American  history  is  likely  to 
very  greatly  underestimate  the  importance  and  territorial  extent  of  the 
Louisiana  and  Florida  purchases ;  the  words  of  Robert  P.  Porter,  in  the 
Princeton  Review  for  November,  1879,  so  we^  summarizes  the  matter  as  to 
excuse  quotation : 

"If  the  reader  will  take  the  trouble  to  glance  at  Walker's  statistical 
atlas  of  the  United  States,  he  will  observe  that  prior  to  the  Louisiana  pur 
chase  in  1803,  the  United  States  was  bounded  by  the  Mississippi  river  on 
the  west,  and  the  Spanish  possession  of  Florida  on  the  south.  The  cession 
of  Louisiana  gave  us  all  west  of  the  Mississippi  and  north  of  the  Red  river, 
and  of  Mexico  to  the  Pacific  ocean — a  territory  considerably  exceeding  the 
previous  Union.  The  annexation  of  Texas  in  1845,  and  the  Texas  cession 
of  1850,  added  a  domain  nearly  equal  to  the  states  north  of  the  line  of  the 
Ohio  and  east  of  the  Mississippi ;  and  the  first  and  second  Mexican  cessions 
of  1848  and  1852  completed  the  line  of  our  "  scientific  frontier"  by  giving 
us  a  territory  about  as  large  as  the  states  south  of  the  great  lakes  and  east 
of  the  Mississippi.  The  United  States  of  1810  was  therefore  a  country  only 
one-ninth  as  large  as  the  United  States  of  to-day." 

While  Jackson  had  no  voice  either  in  the  legislative  or  executive 
branches  of  the  United  States  government,  his  standing  and  influence  were 
such  that  Adams  consulted  him  as  to  the  matter  of  boundaries  to  be  de 
manded  in  the  negotiation  with  Spain.  Jackson's  mind  was  distinguished 
by  intensiveness  rather  than  extensiveness  of  view.  He  was  at  that  time 
especially  interested  in  Florida;  he  did  not  see  beyond  it,  and  gave  his 
approval  of  the  limits  of  the  cession,  as  finally  fixed.  There  is  abundant 
evidence  of  this  fact,  yet,  in  later  years,  he  denied  having  so  approved  the 
treaty,  or  being  consulted  concerning  it,  and  the  disagreement  was  the  cause 
of  much  ill-feeling  between  himself  and  Adams. 

In  the  spring  of  1821,  Jackson  was  appointed  governor-general  of 
Florida.  The  cession  was  not  consummated  until  July  of  that  year,  and 
Congress  had  not  time  to  provide  laws  for  the  government  of  the  new  terri 
tory.  Consequently  Jackson  was  appointed  to  a  very  anomalous  office. 
He  was  given  the  powers  of  the  captain-general  of  Cuba  and  of  the  late 
governors  of  Florida,  save  only  as  to  levying  taxes  and  granting  lands  ; 
the  body  of  the  Spanish  law  was  continued  in  force,  it  being  afterward 
decided  that  no  laws  of  the  United  States,  save  as  to  the  revenue  and  slave 
trade,  applied  to  Florida.  On  the  2ist  of  July,  Jackson  formally  assumed 
his  office  and  issued  a  farewell  address  to  the  army  of  the  south. 

It  required  but  two  months  for  the  new  governor  to  get  his  bearings 
sufficiently  to  complicate  matters  by  a  quarrel  such  as  distinguished  every 


JACKSON    IN    FLORIDA.  6ll 

public  service  in  which  he  .was  engaged.  Certain  persons  complained  to 
him  that  Callava,  the  ex-governor,  had  made  grants  of  lands,  between  the 
formulation  of  the  treaty  of  cession  and  its  ratification,  and  that  he  was 
preparing  to  remove  the  evidence  of  such  action  from  the  country.  Jack 
son  assumed  these  charges  to  be  true,  and  sent  a  very  peremptory  demand 
to  Callava,  to  deliver  the  papers  to  him.  The  ex-governor  replied,  refusing 
to  recognize  the  demand,  unless  a  particular  description  of  the  papers  were 
given,  and  the  demand  addressed  to  him  as  Spanish  commissioner.  Jackson 
had  one  resort  in  such  cases.  He  locked  Callava  in  the  guard-house  during 
the  night  and,  after  searching  his  house  and  appropriating  such  papers  as  he 
desired,  released  the  captive  in  the  morning.  Callava  took  the  matter  as 
rather  a  good  joke,  summoned  a  number  of  his  friends  to  the  prison  and 
the  party  passed  a  very  hilarious  night.  Klegius  Fromentin  was  at  that 
time  United  States  judge  for  the  western  district  of  Florida  ;  he  assumed 
his  poxver  to  be  co-extensive  with  that  of  other  federal  judges  within  the 
territories  of  the  United  States.  Consequently  he  issued  a  writ  of  habeas 
corpus  for  the  imprisoned  Callava.  Jackson  cared  very  little  for  judicial 
writs  or  for  the  dignity  of  the  ermine.  Consequently  he  disregarded  the 
process  and  summoned  the  judge  before  him  to  explain  his  disrespect  of  the 
vice-regent  of  the  Spanish  king  and  the  commissioned  governor  of  the 
United  States.  The  judge  delayed  a  day,  on  plea  of  illness,  them  came,  and 
a  stormy  interview  ensued.  Jackson,  perhaps  remembering  his  expensive 
experience  in  Florida,  forebore  to  hang  or  imprison  the  judge,  and  each  of  the 
functionaries  contented  himself  with  preparing  a  statement  of  the  affair  and 
forwarding  it  to  Washington.  Subsequently  Fromentin  went  in  person  to 
Washington  and  urged  his  claim.  After  his  departure  certain  persons  in 
Pensacola  published  a  defense  of  the  judge,  and  Jackson  gave  them  four 
clays  in  which  to  leave  the  territory,  notifying  them,  at  the  same  time,  that 
if  they  failed  so  to  do,  they  would  lay  themselves  open  to  all  the  penalties 
which  lay  in  his  power,  as  the  American  administrator  of  the  old  Spanish 
law,  to  inflict.  During  the  month  of  February  he  became  disgusted  with 
his  office  and,  resigning  it,  returned  to  Washington,  where  he  had  the  satis 
faction  of  eliciting  a  decision  that  Fromentin's  power,  as  a  United  States 
judge,  in  Florida,  was  limited  to  the  enforcement  of  laws  relating  to  the 
revenue  and  slave  trade,  thus  again  relieving  him  from  the  possible  conse 
quences  of  a  rash  action. 

In  182},  Jackson  was  offered  the  ministry  to  Mexico,  but  declined  the 
honor,  later  publishing  an  explanitory  letter  in  which  he  severely  reflected 
upon  the  Monroe  administration,  though  it  cannot  be  denied  that  it  had 
done  very  much  to  shield  him  not  only  from  popular  disapproval,  but  from 
the  direct  penalties  of  his  over-zeal  in  Florida. 

This  history  has  now  passed  the  second  period  of  Jackson's  life — that 
distinctly  associated  with  his  military  experience.  This  was  in  fact  a  very 


612  ANDREW    JACKSON. 

narrow  one,  marked  by  one  brilliant  success,  but  marred,  wherever  the  person 
ality  of  the  man  appeared,  by  errors  growing  out  of  overweening  self-esteem, 
morbid  sensitiveness,  and  the  arrogance  that  power  is  apt  to  develop  in  a  con- 
ceitecl  and  sensitive  man.  We  now  come  to  the  time  when,  in  his  own  mind 
and  in  the  estimation  of  his  friends,  Jackson  was  recognized  as  an  aspirant  for 
the  Presidency.  A  few  words  as  to  the  campaign  of  1824  are  necessary,  for 
the  reason  that  many  of  the  expedients  which  tended  to  the  election  of  Jack 
son  in  1828,  were  devised  and  put  in  operation  then.  Jackson  was  adisorgan- 
izer  in  the  campaign  ;  he  set  ou-t  without  definite  party  or  sectional  support ; 
in  other  words  he  was  outside  any  of  the  machines.  The  candidacy  of  John 
Quincy  Adams,  of  Calhoun,  Crawford,  and  Clay  was  recognized.  Adams 
was,  undoubtedly,  from  the  highest  point  of  view,  best  entitled  to  the  sup 
port  of  the  country.  His  strength  was  in  his  thorough  statesmanship,  his 
long  diplomatic  and  ministerial  experience,  and  his  unquestioned  honesty. 
These  were  in  a  measure  offset  by  the  facts  that  he  made  no  effort  to  gain 
friends,  hence  had  few  ;  that,  having  come  to  the  democratic  from  the  fed 
eralist  party,  in  1807,  the  soundness  of  his  party  allegiance  was  doubted, 
and  that  he  had  the  smallest  and  least  carefully  organized  body  of  workers 
of  any  candidate.  Adams  favored  the  tariff  of  1824,  considering  further  pro 
tection  unnecessary.  Calhoun  was  the  young  man's  candidate,  drawing 
large  support  from  north  and  east,  as  well  as  south.  He  was  a  states-rights 
man,  then  as  later.  Clay  was  a  pronounced  protectionist.  He  had  opposed 
the  re-charter  of  the  bank,  and  favored  the  early  recognition  of  the  South 
American  republics.  His  political  philosophy  Avas  of  the  popular  kind,  and, 
supported  by  his  splendid  eloquence,  tended  to  draw  to  him  a  certain  and 
enthusiastic,  if  not  a  very  discriminating,  support.  Crawford  was  the  regular 
candidate,  controlling  the  machine,  certain  of  a  majority  in  the  congressional 
caucus  ;  confident  of  success.  He  had  been  a  warm  friend  of  the  old  bank. 
His  administration  of  the  treasury  had  been  distinguished  by  zeal,  and  a 
measure  of  success  ;  he  had,  however,  distributed  the  deposits  of  the  govern 
ment  among  the  banks  in  such  manner,  as  he  thought,  to  insure  harmony. 
When  the  crash  came  the  government  was  a  very  considerable  loser,  and 
Crawford  was  charged  with  having  hazarded  the  funds  of  the  nation,  to  pro 
duce  political  capital  for  himself. 

Jackson's  better  political  self,  Lewis,  now  began  the  preparation  of  the 
people  for  his  candidacy.  He  went  to  South  Carolina  to  arouse  the  citizens 
of  that  state  in  his  favor;  a  member  of  Congress  was  procured  to  write  him 
a  question  as  to  his  opinion  regarding  the  tariff,  and  this  gave  opportunity 
for  Lewis,  in  Jackson's  name,  to  pen  an  answer  which  it  would  be  difficult 
to  surpass  as  an  example  of  masterly  evasiveness. 

Crawford,  having  a  well  defined  majority  in  the  House,  favored  a  cau 
cus;  the  other  candidates,  recognizing  Crawford's  strength,  opposed  the 
caucus,  though  covertly.  When  it  was  held,  Crawford  received  sixty-four 


HIS    PRESIDENTIAL    CAMPAIGN    AND    ELECTION.  613 

votes.  Adams  two,  Jackson  two,  Mason  one,  while  Gallatin  was  nominated 
for  Vice  President;  in  other  words,  scarcely  any  but  Crawford  men  attended 
the  caucus.  Even  at  that  early  da}'  New  York  had  a  .machine;  Van  Buren 
was  at  its  head,  and  it  was  committed  to  Crawford.  It  was  proposed  as  this 
machine — the  Regency — controlled  the  legislature  of  the  state,  to  take  the 
election  from  that  body  and  give  it  to  the  people.  Even  the  Regency  did 
not  dare  oppose  a  measure  so  obviously  just  as  well  as  popular,  but  procured 
it  to  be  so  amended  that  its  own  friends  had  to  kill  it  out  of  pure  compas 
sion.  \Yhy  Jackson  should  have  won  Pennsylvania  to  his  cause  is  hard  to 
say.  That  he  did  so  is  indisputable.  The  federalist  convention  held  at 
Harrisburg  on  the  22cl  of  July,  1824,  declared  for  him,  and  the  Democratic 
convention  held  in  March  was  cleverly  stampeded  to  his  support. 

Clay  was  obviously  out  of  the  race,  and  he  was  coquetting  with  one 
and  another  candidate.  Jackson  certainly  expected  his  support.  The 
electoral  vote,  as  cast,  gave  Jackson  ninety-nine  votes  ;  Adams,  eighty-four; 
Crawford,  one;  Clay,  thirty-seven.  The  election  was  thus  thrown  into  the 
House.  Adams  received  the  votes  of  thirteen,  Jackson  of  seven,  and  Craw 
ford  of  four,  states.  The  popular  vote  was:  For  Jackson,  one  hundred 
and  fifty-five  thousand,  eight  hundred;  for  Adams,  one  hundred  and  five 
thousand,  three  hundred;  for  Crawford,  forty-four  thousand,  two  hundred; 
hundred;  for  Clay,  forty-six  thousand,  five  hundred. 

Immediately  after  the  inauguration,  Adams  appointed  Henry  Clay  his 
secretary  of  state.  This  was  such  an  opportunity  as  Lewis  most  wished  for. 
He  at  once  placed  Jackson  in  the  light  of  an  injured  man.  Having  received 
fifty  thousand  popular  votes  more  than  were  received  by  Adams,  with  a  clear 
plurality  in  the  electoral  college,  Jackson  had  yet  been  defeated  by  Adams, 
but  how?  Clearly  by  the  means  of  a  corrupt  bargain  with  Clay,  whereby 
Clay's  friends  in  the  House  voted  for  Adams,  on  condition  that  their  leader 
should  be  appointed  secretary  of  state.  There  was  at  that  time  not  the 
slightest  evidence  of  such  a  bargain,  unless  the  election  of  Adams  and  the 
appointment  of  Clay  be  so  esteemed,  but  these  facts  were  enough  to  serve 
the  double  purpose  of  Lewis  by  arousing  a  public  feeling  against  Adams  and 
Clay,  a  popular  sympathy  for  Jackson,  and,  perhaps  most  of  all,  by  work 
ing  upon  Jackson's  marked  self-esteem,  and  arousing  him  to  the  active  effort 
which  opposition  and  the  desire  to  defeat  and  humiliate  an  opponent  were 
always  enough  to  awaken  in  him. 

Jackson  took  upon  himself  the  dissemination  of  the  news,  and,  as 
always,  outrunning  the  zeal  of  those  who  incited  him  to  the  act,  dinned  it 
in  the  ears  of  every  man  he  met;  gave  the  statement  the  authority  of  his 
name,  and,  when  Clay  demanded  that  he  produce  the  evidence  upon  which 
he  based  his  allegations,  or  retract  them,  gave  the  name  of  Breckenridge. 
The  latter  evaded  the  matter  if  he  did  not  prevaricate;  Jackson,  had  he 
been  more  logical,  would  have  been  unhorsed.  As  it  was,  he  simply  placed 


6  14  ANDREW    JACKSON. 

Breckenridge  upon  the  list  of  his  enemies;  refused  to  retract,  upon  Clay,s 
demand  that  he  should  do  so,  and,  on  the  contrary,  on  every  occasion 
re-affirmed  the  charge  of  a  corrupt  bargain.  This  was  a  two-edged  sword, 
certain,  if  Clay  was  so  influenced  by  it  as  to  decline  the  portfolio,  to  make 
him  much  less  formidable  in  the  future;  if  he  braved  it  and  took  his  place  in 
the  cabinet,  to  injure  both  himself  and  Adams  before  the  people. 

Another  point  made  by  Lewis  and  his  associates  was  that  the  House  of 
Representatives,  in  the  event  of  a  presidential  election  falling  to  it,  was 
morally  bound  to  respect  the  will  of  the  popular  majority,  as  indicated  by  the 
vote  at  the  polls.  There  is  no  more  pernicious  political  fallacy  than  this, 
nor  is  there  any  more  difficult  to  extirpate.  The  Constitution,  in  providing 
for  the  electoral  college,  intended  to  so  balance  numerical  and  territorial 
representation,  as  to  secure  the  few  against  the  thousands  of  crowded 
centers;  the  thousands  against  the  thinly  populated  square  miles  of  the 
frontiers.  This  false  and  specious  proposal  would  annex  to  the  Constitution 
a  tacitly  understood  amendment,  reversing  its  original  intent,  and  in  some 
cases  disfranchising  a  large  numerical  minority,  representing  in  fact  the 
greater  territory,  by  the  vote  of  a  crowded  city  or  a  single  state,  devoted  to 
a  given  candidate,  or  influenced  by  a  local  issue.  The  people  at  large  do 
not  make  careful  distinctions ;  they  are  devoted  to  the  abstract  idea  of  maj 
ority  rule,  and  do  not  recognize  that  numerical  majority,  in  federal  politics, 
is  but  a  single,  and  that,  too,  a  secondary  element.  Hence  the  appeal  to 
the  prejudices  of  the  masses,  founded  upon  the  assumption  of  a  corrupt  bar 
gain  between  Adams  and  Clay,  and  of  injustice  on  the  part  of  the  House  of 
Representatives,  though  there  was  no  foundation  for  the  latter,  and  probably 
none  for  the  former,  found  ready  credence,  and  its  effect  vindicated  the  claim 
of  Lewis  to  the  reputation  of  being  the  shrewdest  politician  of  his  time. 

The  years  of  Adams'  administration  must  be  very  briefly  dismissed. 
Every  one  recognized  Jackson  as  the  "  coming  man."  Parties  and  factions 
trimmed,  that  their  sails  might  be  filled  by  the  breeze  which  should  bear  him 
him  into  power.  Van  Buren,  in  New  York,  at  the  head  of  the  Regency, 
had  supported  Crawford,  and  DeWitt  Clinton  had  been  removed  from  office, 
because  he  was  a  Jackson  man.  Van  Buren  read  the  signs  of  the  times  and 
wheeled  into  the  Jackson  line  ;  the  Albany  Argus,  which  had  written  Jack 
son  down  as  a  presidential  impossibility,  took  him  up  and  supported  him  as 
a  presidential  certainty.  Thus  New  York,  Pennsylvania,  and  Tennessee, 
wrere  secured  for  Jackson  ;  he  was  the  second  choice  of  the  Clay  states, — 
Kentucky,  Missouri,  and  Ohio,  and  stood  upon  terms  of  equality  with  his 
available  rivals  in  other  states.  The  opposition  was  organized  in  Jackson's 
favor,  and  a  more  ill-assorted  medley  it  would  be  difficult  to  conceive. 
There  was  between  its  elements  no  sympathy  save  that  arising  from  com 
munity  of  discontent.  There  was  not  even  the  pretence  of  a  principle,  yet 
the  so-called  party  rallied  at  the  battle  cry  of  reform,  and  its  campaign  was 


PRESIDENTIAL    CAMPAIGN    AND    ELECTION. 

one  of  the  most  vigorous  ever  known  in  the  history  of  the  United  States. 
Party  organs  had  before  existed,  but  they  had  been  of  the  moderate  order 
which  have  some  regard  for  truth  and  a  measure  of  judicial  fairness.  Lewis 
brought  into  being,  all  over  the  country,  a  journalism  now  familiar  enough, 
which  subordinated  everything  to  the  single  idea  of  electing  Jackson. 
There  was  for  that  purpose  but  one  side  to  any  question,  and  no  distinction 
between  truth  and  falsehood.  Calhoun  was  an  enemy  of  Adams,  and  his 
place  as  president  of  the  Senate  was  unhesitatingly  used  to  injure  the  Pres 
ident.  Every  committee  was  framed  with  a  view  of  making  it  a  clog  upon 
the  executive  ;  its  appointments  were  confirmed  tardily,  if  at  all,  and  the 
efforts  of  Calhoun  in  the  chair  and  Randolph  upon  the  floor,  were  single  in 
their  object,  the  placing  of  a  second  candidacy  of  Adams  out  of  the  ques 
tion.  Adams,  on  his  part,  was  one  of  the  purest  and  best  presidents  that 
was  ever  elected.  He  was  almost  morbidly  sensitive  about  the  admission  oi 
personal  considerations  to  influence  his  action.  He  would  not  appoint  a  man 
to  office  because  he  was  his  friend  or  remove  him  because  he  was  his  enemy. 
He  placed  the  dagger  in  the  hand  of  his  foe,  bared  his  breast,  and  said; 
"Strike  ;  I  am  a  just  man,  and  an  innocent."  He  did  not  lack  for  blowrs. 
Sumner,  in  an  admirable  summary  of  the  charges  against  Adams,  so  well 
epitomizes  the  matter,  illustrating  the  trivial  and  inconsistent  nature  of  the 
war  made  upon  him,  that  quotation  is  profitable:  "  Against  Adams  were 
brought  the  charges  that  he  gave  to  Webster  and  the  federalists,  in  1824,  a 
corrupt  promise  ;  that  he  was  a  monarchist  and  aristocrat;  that  he  refused 
to  pay  a  subscription  to  turnpike  stock  on  a  legal  quibble  ;  that  his  wife  was 
an  Englishwoman  ;  that  he  wrote  a  scurrilous  poem  against  Jefferson,  in 
1802  ;  that  he  surrendered  a  young  American  serving  woman  to  the 
emperor  of  Russia  ;  that  he  was  rich  ;  that  he  was  in  debt  ;  that  he  had 
long  engrossed  public  office  ;  that  he  had  received  immense  amounts  of  public 
money,  namely  the  aggregate  of  all  the  salaries,  outfits,  and  allowances  he 
had  ever  received  ;  that  his  accounts  with  the  treasury  were  not  in  order  ; 
that  lie  had  charged  for  constructive  journeys  ;  that  he  had  put  a  billiard 
table  in  the  white  house  at  the  public  expense  ;  that  he  patronized  duelists 
(Clay)  ;  that  he  had  had  a  quarrel  with  his  father,  who  had  disinherited  him  ; 
that  he  had  sent  out  men  in  the  pay  of  the  government  to  electioneer  for 
him  ;  that  he  had  corrupted  the  civil  service  ;  that  he  had  used  the  federal 
patronage  to  influence  elections."  Jackson  did  not  escape  assault.  His 
marriage  ;  his  military  record  ;  his  many  duels  ;  his  Florida  administration 
— of  all  these  the  most  was  made  to  his  injury. 

The  elections  of  the  country  were  held  in  the  various  states  from 
October  3istto  November  iQth.  Jackson  received  648,283  popular  votes; 
Adams  508,064,  and  a  large  majority  in  the  electoral  college.  Richard 
Bush  was  elected  Vice  president,  and  the  two  were  duly  installed.  The 
result  was  considered  a  great  triumph  for  the  reformers,  though  no  one 


ANDREW    JACKSON. 

seemed  to  have  any  very  definite  idea  of  where  existed  the  abuses  that 
called  for  correction.  John  Quincy  Adams  went  out  under  a  cloud  of  odium 
almost  as  dense  as  that  which  had  enveloped  his  father,  and  made  way  for 
the  novus  homo, — the  little  educated,  headstrong,  opinionated  Andrew 
Jackson. 


1I,E    FIRST    JACKSON    ADMINTSTRATION. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  FIRST  JACKSON  ADMINISTRATION. 

IT  would  be  interesting  and  profitable  to  preface  an  account  of  Jackson's 
administration,  with  a  general  and  comprehensive  account  of  the  politi 
cal  conditions  which  existed  at  the  time,  and  of  the  state  of  public  opinion 
upon  the  principal  questions  of  the  day,  as  well  as  the  social,  financial,  and 
industrial  aspects  of  American  life.  Some  slight  knowledge  of  these  matters 
is,  in  fact,  essential  to  a  just  appreciation  of  Jackson's  attitude  and  policy, 
but  the  glance  here  given  must  be  very  cursory. 

Jackson's  accession  to  the  presidency  may  be  said  to  mark  an  epoch  in 
American  politics.  He  came  as  the  first  fruit  of  a  new  philosophy,  the 
foundation  of  the  machine  methods  and  personal  expedients  of  to-day.  The 
six  men  who  preceded  him  in  the  presidential  chair,  differing  widely  in  policy 
and  political  ethics;  varying  much  in  ability,  were,  nevertheless,  alike  in 
being  cultivated,  refined,  and  representative  of  the  best  American  social  and 
intellectual  life.  No  one  of  them  came  to  the  presidential  chair,  with  gar 
ments  soiled  by  any  unseemly  personal  struggle  for  place,  or  with  the  odor 
of  a  doubtful  method  about  him.  Every  one  had  lived  a  regular  and  unques 
tionably  exemplary  life.  There  was  about  them  all,  even  about  Jefferson, 
with  all  his  democracy,  a  certain  dignity  and  propriety  approaching  stateli- 
ness.  This  line  was  at  last  broken,  and  the  man  of  the  people  was  come. 
Ever\'  means — the  direct  personal  propaganda;  the  assault  upon  the  enemy; 
the  secret  "setting  of  stakes,"  and  creating  of  false  public  opinion, — all 
this  had  been  exhausted  to  make  this  parvenu  a  President.  His  receptions 
were  attended  by  a  rabble,  which  he  met  as  if  he  were  one  of  them,  yet  this 
was  largely  affectation,  for  no  man  could  be  more  the  gentleman  than  Jack 
son,  when  he  chose  to  be  such.  There  was  before  him  a  very  stormy,  diffi 
cult,  and  trying  administration.  The  financial  affairs  of  the  country  were 
upset,  and  first,  as  it  was  the  most  prolific  of  all  the  sources  of  evil,  stood 
the  banking  system,  then  in  force.  The  other  important  questions  of  the 


6l'8  ANDREW    JACKSON. 

time  arose  from  the  commercial  relations  of  the  United  States  with  the 
British  colonies;  claims  against  France  for  injuries  to  American  commerce; 
the  federal  judiciary;  Indian  relations;  the  land  system;  internal  improve 
ments;  tariff;  nullification;  the  banking  system.* 

Aside  from  these  matters  of  public  and  general  import,  Jackson's  first 
administration  was  particularly  interesting  in  its  personal  and  internal— per 
haps  it  may  be  permissable  to  say, — its  domestic  relations.  While  Jackson 
was  supposed  to  be  a  President  of  the  Jeffersonian  succession,  his  was,  both 
in  its  social  and  political  phases,  a  very  different  administration  from  that  of 
the  great  republican. 

His  cabinet  was  a  weak  one,  but  quite  equal  to  the  demands  made 
upon  its  wisdom.  Van  Buren,  by  virtue  of  his  "services"  in  New  York, 
was  secretary  of  state  ;  S.  D.  Ingham,  who  had  been  active  in  Pennsylvania, 
secretary  of  the  treasury.  John  H.  Eaton,  of  Kentucky,  received  the  war 
portfolio;  John  Branch,  of  North  Carolina,  that  of  the  navy;  John  M. 
Berrian,  of  Georgia,  was  attorney  general.  William  T.  Barry,  of  Kentucky, 
received  the  appointment  of  postmaster  general,  and  was  the  first  incumbent 
of  that  office  admitted  to  a  seat  in  the  cabinet.  It  was  a  ministry  carefully 
selected  to  pay  the  debts  of  the  administration,  without  danger  of  imperti 
nent  interference  with  those  who  made  the  President  and  were  predeter 
mined  to  manage  him,  and  we  cannot  but  recognize  in  its  framing,  the  fine 
Italian  hand  of  William  B.  Lewis.  Out  of  the  public  view,  living  in  Wash 
ington  ;  holding  but  insignificant  offices,  if  any,  were  the  men  who  adminis 
tered  the  affairs  of  the  nation,  through  the  person  of  the  President.  He 
was,  to  be  sure,  given  to  rebellion  ;  to  the  making  of  erratic  ventures  at 
independence  ;  but  his  policy  as  it  stands  before  the  world,  may  justly  be 
said  to  have  been  that  of  the  famous  "Kitchen  Cabinet."  William  B. 
Lewis,  of  whom  enough  has  been  said,  w7as  its  prime  minister.  Amos  Ken 
dall,  Duff  Gunn,  and  Isaac  Hill  were  his  colleagues.  Lewis  was  made  sec 
ond  auditor  of  the  treasury.  Kendall  was  born  in  Massachusetts,  went  to 
Washington  when  a  young  man  ;  became  a  member  of  the  family  of  Henry 
Clay  ;  removed  to  Kentucky,  where  he  edited  a  country  paper  and  managed 
a  country  post-office.  He  fell  out  with  Clay,  and  hence  adhered  to  Jackson. 
An  influential  worker  for  the  Jackson  "  second  choice  "  movement  in  Ken 
tucky,  he  received  the  office  of  fourth  auditor  of  the  treasury.  He  was  a 
man  of  exceeding  ability,  but  of  low  moral  perceptions,  and,  as  a  politician, 
was  the  incarnation  of  the  worst  evils  of  the  American  system.  Harriet 
MarHneau  wrote  of  him.  "  I  was  fortunate  enough  once  to  catch  a  glimpse 
of  the  invisible  Amos  Kendall,  one  of  the  most  remarkable  men  in  Amer 
ica.  He  is  supposed  to  be  the  moving  spring  of  the  whole  administration, 

*The  valuable  work  of  Professor  Sumner  contains  this  classification,  .and  the  author  acknowledges  a 
heavy  indebtedness  to  that  writer,  materials  laboriously  collected  by  him  being  used  in  many  portions  of 
this  biography. 


THE    FIRST   JACKSON    ADMINISTRATION.  619 

— the  thinker,  planner,  and  doer;  but  it  is  all  in  the  dark.  Documents  are 
issued  of  an  excellence  which  prevents  their  being  attributed  to  persons  who 
take  the  responsibility  of  them  ;  correspondence  is  kept  up  all  over  the 
country  for  which  no  one  seems  to  be  answerable;  work  is  done  of  goblin 
extent  and  with  goblin  speed,  which  makes  men  look  about  them  with 
superstitious  wonder;  and  the  invisible  Amos  Kendall  has. the  credit  of  it 
all.  He  is  undoubtedly  a  great  genius.  He  unites,  with  his  great  talent  for 
silence,  a  splendid  audacity." 

Miss  Martineau  while  her  conclusions  as  to  the  extent  of  Kendall's 
work  are  somewhat  erroneous,  in  that  she  gives  him  credit  not  only  for  his 
own  but  for  much  of  Lewis'  accomplishment,  yet  undoubtedly  voices  accu 
rately  and  vividly  the  opinion  of  her  time,  as  to  the  mysterious  man 
whose  influence  was  then  so  potent.  As  Lewis  and  Kendall  were  the 
minds  of  this  anomalous  administration,  Duff  Green  was  the  arm.  To  him 
was  committed  the  editorial  charge  of  the  Jackson  organ,  and  it  may  be  said 
that  before  his  time  the  purely  selfish  and  partisan  journalism  so  common 
to-day  existed  only  in  the  rudest  and  most  primary  form.  Whom  Kendall 
tried  and  Lewis  condemned  to  political  death,  he  executed  cruelly,  ruth 
lessly.  To  his  mind,  as  to  that  of  his  associates,  the  world  contained  but 
two  classes  of  people,  the  friends  and  the  enemies  of  Jackson.  The  former 
were  to  be  supported,  however  wrong ;  the  latter  crushed,  however  right. 
The  only  principle  he  knew  was  advisability.  Last  and  perhaps  least 
important  was  Isaac  Hill,  a  new  England  editor,  who  had  collected  the 
scattered  and  impotent  opposition  of  New  Hampshire,  and  under  the  name 
of  democracy  had  well  nigh  accomplished  the  defeat  of  Adams  at  his  very 
door.  Such  was  the  "Kitchen  cabinet;" — an  aggregation  of  silent  yet 
powerful  and  irresponsible  influence,  such  as  the  nation  had  never  known 
before,  and  such  as  we  should  fervently  hope  may  never  hereafter  find  a 
parallel.  Into  the  councils  of  this  circle,  but  one  member  of  the  ostensible 
cabinet  of  the  President — Katon — was  admitted,  and  he  rather  upon  suffer 
ance  than  by  virtue  of  any  recognized  right.  This  diversion  of  the  Presi 
dent's  council  from  recognized  channels  was  not  the  only  complicating 
element  in  the  administration.  Calhoun  was  again  Vice  President  ;  his 
ambition  for  the  higher  honor  had  been  balked,  not  crushed  by  defeat.  He 
believed  that  Jackson  would  not  be  a  candidate  for  re-election  ;  he  saw  in 
Jackson's  friendship,  which  he  was  destined  so  soon  and  so  innocently  to 
lose,  the  best  prospect  for  his  own  succes.  Van  Buren,  the  crafty  and 
ambitious  NY\v  York  politician,  the  first  example  of  the  effect  of  those  per 
nicious  political  methods  which  have  produced  what  in  the  slang  of  to-day  is 
called  the  boss,  was  secretary  of  state.  He  too  had  swallowed  Lewis'  skill 
fully  baited  hook,  and  regarded  Jackson  as  a  one-term  President  ;  he,  too. 
boked  longingly  to  the  succession,  and  between  his  interests  and  those  of 
Calhoun  the  conflict  was  irrepressible.  As  between  the  two,  Jackson's  per- 


620  ANDREW    JACKSON. 

sonal  inclinations  were  in  favor  of  Van  Buren,  who  had  given  him  New 
York  ;  he  believed,  however,  that  Calhoun  had  stood  his  friend  in  the  Mon 
roe  cabinet  when  the  matter  of  the  Seminole  war,  and  with  it  his  own  repu 
tation,  was  in  the  balance  ;  this  mistaken  belief  had  made  him  Calhoun's 
friend,  as  it  had  made  him  Crawford's  enemy,  and,  tenacious  of  his  friend 
ships  as  of  his  hatreds,  he  stood  for  the  time  neutral.  There  was  no  imme 
diate  necessity  for  taking  sides  in  the  matter;  the  "Kitchen  cabinet"  had 
determined,  though  it  had  not  announced,  that  Jackson  should  again  be 
President  ;  when  came  the  proper  time  the  unfailing  influences  of  that  won 
derful  coterie  of  political  managers  were  set  at  work  and  Calhoun  was  crushed. 

This  somewhat  over  long  treatment  of  the  internal  influences  which 
surrounded  Jackson  has  been  given  because  essential  to  an  understanding  of 
his  administration.  The  statement  may  be  made  without  reservation  that 
the  wisdom,  the  folly,  the  justice,  the  wrong,  the  new  and  startling  political 
methods — everything  that  made  Jackson's  administration  what  it  was,  was 
due  to  the  silent  influence  of  these  four  men.  They  showed  their  wonder 
ful  adroitness  in  so  long  and  uniformly  influencing  so  unmanageable  a  man. 
Their  success  was  due  to  their  thorough  understanding  of  his  peculiarities; 
they  knew  him  too  well  to  allow  him  to  discover  that  he  was  in  fact  not  a 
free  agent ;  they  filled  his  ears  with  hints,  insinuations,  and  respectful  sugges 
tions  ;  they  kept  him  closely  in  their  own  atmosphere,  and  isolated  from 
councils  which  might  conflict  with  their  own,  until  he  had  so  thoroughly 
absorbed  their  opinions  and  had  become  so  imbued  with  their  ideas  that  he 
adopted  the  measures  and  followed  the  policy  which  they  had  outlined  for 
him,  not  for  a  moment  doubting  that  they  were  original  with  himself,  and 
that  his  action  was  quite  spontaneous. 

To  the  Jackson  administration  belongs  the  responsibility  for  having 
originated  and  applied  the  plan  of  making  the  machinery  of  government  a 
vast  engine  for  supporting  an  administration,  and  perpetuating  party  power. 
The  principle  was  formulated  in  the  famous  dogma  of  William  L.  Marcy, 
"To  the  victors  belong  the  spoils."  Jackson's  letter  to  Monroe,  writh  its 
advice  regarding  the  civil  service,  its  protest  against  proscription,  and  its 
warm  advocacy  of  a  conciliatory  policy,  seems  absurd  and  contemptible 
enough  in  the  light  of  the  course  taken  during  his  administration. 

Up  to  that  time  the  civil  service  had  been  almost  an  estate  in  itself;  it 
was  looked  upon  as  a  moderately  profitable,  but  a  safe  and  permanent  occu 
pation.  Washington,  during  his  administration,  removed  nine  persons  from 
office,  one  a  defaulter;  Adams,  ten,  one  a  defaulter;  Jefferson,  thirty-nine; 
Madison,  five,  three  of  whom  were  defaulters;  Monroe,  nine;  John  Quincy 
Adams,  two,  both  for  cause.  It  will  thus  be  seen  that,  from  1789  to  1829, 
a  period  of  forty  years,  there  had  been  but  seventy-four  removals  from 
federal  office,  for  more  than  half  of  which  Jefferson  was  responsible. 

Jackson's   inauguration   was  followed  by  a  descent  of  hungry  vandals, 


THE    FIRST    JACKSON    ADMINISTRATION.  621 

such  as  history  has  since  made  very  familiar;  it  had,  up  to  that  time,  been 
unknown.  The  office-seekers  were  the  "workers"  who  claimed  to  have 
borne  a  share  in  making-  Jackson  President;  the  office-holders  were  trie  a 
and  trusty  public  servants,  many  of  whom  had  passed  a  quarter  of  a  century 
in  the  departments;  some  of  whom  dated  their  service  from  the  organization 
of  the  government,  under  the  Constitution.  Vague  premonitions  of  a  pre 
scriptive  policy  had  preceded  Jackson's  installation ;  his  inaugural  more 
definitely  foreshadowed  it,  and,  soon  after,  began  the  first  practical  applica 
tion  of  the  spoils  system.  Men  were  removed,  right  and  left,  for  the  most 
trivial  causes,  or  for  no  cause  at  all.  In  their  places  were  put  the  henchmen 
of  the  new  President,  and,  while  the  public  service  lost  in  efficiency,  the 
Jackson  administration  gained  in  strength. 

The  responsibility  for  this  policy  has  never  been  fixed.  Lewis  and 
Kendall  both  opposed  it;  and  it  was  the  effect,  probably  of  one  of  Jackson's 
"spasms  of  independence,"  he  having,  as  Sumner  suggests,  taken  all  the 
campaign  charges  of  dishonesty  and  corruption  as  literally  true.  Another 
quotation  from  Sumner  will  sufficiently  illustrate  the  extent  and  effect  of 
Jackson's  policy  : 

"Thirty-eight  of  Adams'  nominations  had  been  postponed  by  the  Sen 
ate,  so  as  to  give  that  patronage  to  Jackson.  Between  March  4,  1829,  and 
March  22,  1830,  four  hundred  and  twenty-nine  postmasters  and  two  hundred 
and  thirty-nine  other  officers  were  removed,  and,  as  the  new  appointees 
changed  all  their  clerks,  deputies,  etc.,  it  was  estimated  that  two  thousand 
changes  in  the  civil  service  took  place.  Jackson,  as  we  have  seen,  had  made 
a  strong  point  against  the  appointment  of  members  of  Congress  to  offices 
in  the  gift  of  the.'  President.  In  one  year  he  appointed  more  members  of 
Congress  to  offic.s  than  anyone  of  his  predecessors  in  his  whole  term. 
The  Senate,  although  Democratic,  refused  to  confirm  many  of  the  nomina 
tions  made.  .  .  .  Webster  said  that,  but  for  Jackson's  popu 
larity  out  of  doors,  the  Senate  would  have  rejected  half  his  appointments.'' 
One  effect  of  the  vacation  of  so  many  offices  was  to  precipitate  a  struggle 
between  Culhoun  and  Van  Huren,  each  of  whom  desired  to  serve  himself  by 
having  his  adherents  in  a  majority.  Thus  the  administration  was  more  than 
ever  divided  against  itself,  and  its  councils  still  further  distracted. 

Jackson's  first  administration  was  not  without  its  serio-comic  episode. 
As  Troy  was  betrayed  by  a  wooden  horse,  and  Rome  saved  by  a  flock  of 
gce"sc,  so  was  the  whole  fabric  of  American  affairs  shaken  to  its  center  by  a 
woman.  John  II.  Katon,  secretary  of  war,  had  been  the  husband  of  a  niece 
of  Jackson's  late  wife,  then  deceased.  In  January,  1829,  he  married  Mrs. 
Timberlakc,  mr  Peggy  O'Xeil.  Timberlake,  while  upon  the  Mediterranean 
station  had  committed  suicide,  anticipating  the  death  of  a  drunkard.  His 
widow,  in  her  maiden  days,  had  been  very  well  known  in  Washington,  and 
not  in  the  most  exalted  connection.  Here  was  indeed  a  sad  predicament 


•£22  ANDREW    JACKSON. 

for  the  leaders  of  Washington  society.  They  at  last  determined  to  place 
social  principle  above  advisability,  and  refused  to  recognize  her.  Scree  per 
sons  remonstrated  with  Jackson  for  having  countenanced  the  marriage. 
He  answered  that  Mrs.  Eaton  was  not  to  be  in  the  cabinet;  she  attempted 
to  force  herself  into  notice  ;  he  supported  her  in  the  effort.  The  President 
personally  remonstrated  with  members  of  the  cabinet  ;  each  answered,  with 
consummate  policy,  that  he  could  not  undertake  to  interfere  with  his 
\vrife's  social  conclusions.  Mrs.  Donalson,  grand  niece  of  a  Tennessee 
boarding  house  keeper,  niece  of  Jackson's  late  wife,  was  at  the  head  of  the 
White  House  menage.  See  proved  as  recalcitrant  as  the  rest,  and  was  ban 
ished  to  her  native  wilds.  So  went  on  the  war,  ruthless  as  is  every  war 
waged  by  women  ;  Van  Buren,  a  widower,  paid  the  young  wife  attention. 
Perhaps  this  fact  made  him  President  ;  at  least  it  won  Jackson  more  strongly 
to  him  than  before.  Mrs.  Calhoun  would  none  of  the  new  cabinet  lady, 
and  her  husband  lost  in  proportion.  Parties  and  cliques  were  formed; 
Eatonians  and  anti-Eatonians  had  their  adherents,  and  the  anti's  were  the 
enemies  of  Jackson. 

Next  to  the  Peggy  O'Neil  embroglio,  perhaps  the  relations  of  Jackson 
with  Calhoun  were  most  interesting.  The  President  had  begun  to  look  upon 
Calhoun  with  distrust ;  he  believed  that  the  latter  was  only  moved  to  his  adher 
ence  to  him,  in  1825  and  1828,  by  advisability.  Much  has  been  said  of  the 
relations  of  Crawford  and  Calhoun  to  the  Florida  question,  when  it  arose  in 
Monroe's  cabinet  ;  Jackson  believed  Calhoun  to  have  advocated  the  support 
of  his  Florida  policy  and  Crawford  to  have  opposed  it.  In  this  he  reversed 
the  attitude  of  the  men.  Neither  of  them  had,  however,  acted  as  his 
friend  or  as  his  enemy  ;  the  matter  had  been  viewed  purely  in  its  relations 
with  the  nation  and  the  administration.  Parton  embodies,  in  his  Life  of 
Jackson,  a  statement  of  Lewis  as  to  the  relations  of  Jackson  and  Calhoun, 
which  covers  the  matter  as  fully  as  could  be  wished.  As  early  as  1819  an 
effort  had  been  made  to  imbue  Jackson  with  an  idea  that  Calhoun  had  not, 
as  he  had  previously  supposed,  been  his  friend  in  the  matter  of  the  Seminole 
war.  Lewis,  at  that  time,  wrote  to  the  Aurora,  intimating  that  opinion. 
But  Jackson  was  not  yet  ripe  for  the  thought,  and  wrote  to  Lewis  from 
Washington  to  dismiss  the  suspicion  which  he  entertained  of  Calhoun. 
Again,  to  quote  from  Sumner : 

"  In  November,  1829,  at  the  height  of  the  Peggy  O'Neil  affair,  Jack 
son  gave  a  dinner  to  Monroe.  At  this  dinner  Ringold  affirmed  that  Monroe 
alone  stood  by  Jackson  in  1818.  If  Ringold  did  not  have  his  cue,  he  was 
by  chance  contributing  astonishingly  to  Lewis'  plans.  After  dinner  Lewis 
and  Eaton  kept  up  a  conversation  within  earshot  of  Jackson,  about  what 
Ringold  had  said.  Of  course,  Jackson's  attention  was  soon  arrested,  and 
lie  began  to  ask  Ringold  questions.  Lewis  then  told  him  that  he  had  seen, 


THE    FIRST    JACKSON    ADMINISTRATION.  623 

eighteen    months 'before,    the   above   mentioned    letter  of  Forsyth   to  Ham 
ilton.  * 

Jackson  dispatched  Lewis  to  New  York  the  next  morning',  to  get  that 
letter.  In  all  this  story  it  is  plain  how  adroitly  these  men  managed  the  gen 
eral,  and  how  skilful  they  were  in  producing  "accidents.1  It  is  evident  that 
the\r  did  not  think  it  was  time  yet  to  bring  about  an  explosion.  Lewis 
came  back  from  New  York  without  Forsyth's  letter,  and  said  it  was  thought 
best  to  get  a  letter  directly  from  Crawford  containing  an  explicit  statement. 
In  this  position  the  matter  rested  all  winter.  It  is  perfectly  clear  that  the 
Jackson  managers  lost  faith  in  Calhoun's  loyalty  to  Jackson  and  the  Jackson 
party,  and  that  they  were  hostile  to  him  in  1827  and  1828,  but  could  not 
yet  afford  to  break  with  him.  Jackson  clung  to  his  friendships  and  alliances 
with  a  certain  tenacity.  As  Calhoun  was  drawn  more  and  more  in  nullifica-' 
tion,  the  Jackson  clique  took  a  positive  attitude  in  opposition  to  him. 

The  movement  against  Calhoun  was  one  of  the  most  adroitly  executed 
of  any  ever  adopted  by  that  remarkable  coterie  of  conspirators — the  kitchen 
cabinet.  It  brought  against  him  every  possible  consideration  that  could 
have  weight  with  Jackson.  It  brought  against  him,  not  only  these  personal 
considerations,  but  those  that  might  have  influence  with  the  public  at  large, 
thus  reaching  Jackson  at' once  in  two  different  directions — his  private  feel 
ings,  and  his  own  estimate  of  the  effect  of  the  matter  upon  the  public  at 
large;  it  undermined  Calhoun  by  ever)'  insinuation  known  to  the  methods  of 
the  most  consummate  politician;  worked  against  him  upon  his  record  in  the 
Monroe  cabinet,  and  was  not  slow  to  use  the  facts  in  regard  to  the  Peggy 
O'Xeil  affair,  to  affect  Jackson's  personal  feelings,  and  still  the  Crawford 
letter  was  held  back  as  a  possible  means  of  influence,  should  everything 
else  fail. 

In  the  spring  of  1830,  Lewis  wrote  Colonoi  Stambaugh,  of  Pennsyl 
vania,  suggesting  that  the  Pennsylvania  legislature  might  well  address  to 
Jackson  an  appeal  that  he  be  a  candidate  for  re-election.  This  was  the  first 
public  announcement  of  a  long  standing  plan  of  the  Kitchen  cabinet,  that 
Jackson  should  be  a  second  time  president.  There  was  enclosed  to  the 
prominent  members  of  the  legislature  an  address,  already  prepared  for  sig 
nature,  suggesting  this  re-election.  Lewis,  with  his  consummate  knowledge 
of  political  methods,  and  his  wily  partisanship,  suggested  to  Stambaugh 
that  it  would  not  be  well  for  any  of  Jackson's  friends  at  the  capital  to  be 
apparent  in  the  movement  for  re-election,  and  that  from  Pennsylvania,  which 
in  the  previous  campaign  had  been  the  stronghold  of  his  popularity,  should 
come  the  first  and  ostensibly  spontaneous  movement  for  his  candidacy. 
Pennsylvania  was  then,  as  later,  absolutely  in  the  hands  of  managers,  con- 

*A   certain  letter  of  one  Forsyth  to  Alexander    Hamilton,    affirming  that  Jackson's  enmity  against 
Crawford  was  groundless,    since   it  was  not  he,    but   Calhoun,  in  Monroe's  cabinet,  who  had  favored  the 
.    censure  of  Jackson  regarding  the  Florida  proceedings  in  1818. 


624  ANDREW    JACKSON. 

sequently  the  address  came  back  properly  signed  with  twenty-eight  names, 
a  large  majority  of  the  legislature.  It  was  published  and  adroitly  circu 
lated,  and  everywhere  was  made  to  do  duty  as  a  spontaneous  and  irresistible 
call  of  the  supporters  of  the  "old  hero,"  urging  him  not  to  desert  his  office 
in  the  hour  of  need.  Yet  the  Lewis  faction  had  much  to  oppose.  The 
Calhoun  party  was  not  to  be  defeated  by  such  flimsy  methods  as  these,  and, 
all  along  the  line,  contested  every  inch  of  ground. 

In  the  spring,  a  caucus  of  the  New  York  legislature  responded  to  the 
"sentiment  of  the  legislature  of  Pennsylvania."  No  one  could  doubt 
whence  this  prompting  came — from  Van  Buren  at  Washington.  Of  course, 
then,  as  since,  the  example  of  New  York  was  followed,  and  other  legisla 
tures  were  ready  to  give  in  their  adherence  to  the  Soldier  President. 

Taking  into  consideration  the  antecedents  of  Jackson,  his  attitude  to 
ward  previous  measures,  and  his  well  known  southern  tendencies,  it  must 
be  surprising  to  every  student  of  history  that  he  was  not  distinctly  and 
openly  an  adherent  of  the  nullification  doctrines,  of  which  Calhoun  was  the 
principal  exponent.  Yet  such  was  not  the  case.  With  one  of  those  pecu 
liar  and  inexplicable  assertions  of  independence,  which  made  his  adminis 
tration  a  surprise,  not  only  to  his  friends  but  to  his  enemies,  he,  from  the 
first  suggestion  of  nullification  to  the  close  of  his  administration,  was  un 
questionably  its  enemy.  The  I3th  of  April,  1830,  the  anniversary  of  the 
birth  of  Jefferson,  was  suggested  by  the  friends  of  that  great  statesman  as  a 
proper  time  for  the  celebration,  which  should  at  the  same  time  draw  to 
gether  the  principal  leaders  of  the  old  democratic  party,  and,  covertly,  be 
made  an  excuse  for  forwarding  the  then  young  principles  of  the  nullification 
party, — if  party  it  may  be  called.  On  that  occasion  Jackson  was  present, 
and  he  proposed  a  toast,  which  probably  more  than  any  other  that  could 
have  been  suggested,  tended  to  the  defeat  of  the  enemies  of  the  real,  though 
not  partisan  federalipm,-— "  Our  federal  Union." 

This  was  at  the  same  time  a  paralyzing  blow  to  the  nullifiers,  and  was  a 
note  of  encouragement  to  the  not  small  minority  of  federalists  who  looked 
upon  the  preservation  of  the  Union,  and  to  the  continuation  of  the  methods 
which  had  been  adopted  by  Washington,  forwarded  by  Adams,  and  allowed 
to  pursue  their  even  course  under  Jefferson,  Madison  and  Monroe  as  superior 
to  party  aims,  and  at  the  same  time  was  a  distinct  declaration  of  war  against 
Calhoun,  his  own  secretary  of  state ;  against  the  methods  which  Calhoun 
represented,  against  the  party  which  professed  to  support  Calhoun  as  a 
Presidential  nominee.  Perhaps  this  was  Jackson's  work,  but  it  seems  alto 
gether  unlikely,  to  one  who  has  been  a  close  student  of  his  administration, 
and  of  his  previous  history,  that  he  should  have  struck  spontaneously  so 
aggressive  a  blow  against,  not  so  much  at  the  party,  as  at  the  man  who  headed 
it — Calhoun.  It  has  been  previously  shown  in  these  pages  that  Jackson 
had,  up  to  the  time  named,  considered  Calhoun  to  be  his  friend.  There 


THE    FIRST    ADMINISTRATION.  62$ 

had  unquestionably  been  at  work  upon  him  during  this  interval,  the  mystery 
of  which  history  may  not  penetrate,  some  influence  which  convinced  him 
that  he  had  been  mistaken  in  his  former  estimate  of  Calhoun,  and,  this 
influence  having  once  convinced  him  that  one  whom  he  had  considered 
his  friend  had,  in  fact,  not  been  such,  it  resulted  in  making  him  the  bitter 
enemy  of  that  man. 

It  was  not  until  the  1st  of  May,  1830,  that  a  letter  was  at  last  received, 
written  by  Crawford  himself,  which  disclosed  the  true  attitude  of  Calhoun 
on  the  cabinet  issue  of  1818.  In  that  communication  the  Rhea  letter,  to 
which  reference  has  already  been  made,  for  the  first  time,  came  into  public 
notice.  In  it  the  whole  matter  of  the  Florida  war  was  discussed,  the  whole 
matter  of  the  cabinet  deliberations  which  followed  that  war  was  rehearsed  ; 
in  it  the  attitude  of  Calhoun,  distinct!}"  in  opposition  to  Jackson  at  that 
time,  was  brought  out;  the  attitude  of  Adams  as  Jackson's  only  champion 
in  the  cabinet ;  the  attitude  of  Crawford,  who  was  in  fact  a  neutral, — all  these 
were  exposed  and  ever}'  tendency  of  every  line  was  such  as  to  wreck  any 
small  remaining  confidence  which  Jackson  might  have  in  Calhoun. 

The  position  of  Kendall  in  the  "Kitchen  cabinet"  had  been  owing  to 
his  influence  in  Kentucky  politics  ;  that  influence  had  been  due  to  his  advo 
cacy  of  relief  measures,  and  his  opposition  of  the  bank  of  the  United  States. 
The  first  disruption  in  this  famous  basement  cabinet  was  due  to  the  fact  of 
Jackson's  opposition  to  Calhoun,  which  turned  Duff  Green,  editor  of  the 
administration  organ,  against  the  man  who  inspired  his  pen.  This  being  so. 
there  was  nothing  but  to  search  through  the  country  for  another  man  who 
might  edit  the  organ  of  Jackson,  and  such  a  man  was  found  in  Francis  P. 
Blair,  whose  coming,  in  the  year  1830,  was  the  first  appearance  in  \Yash- 
ington  of  that  famous  family.  This  man  had  been  all  that  Kendall  was,  the 
friend  of  relief  politics  in  Kentucky,  the  enemy  of  the  bank  of  the  United 
States,  a  friend  of  what  would  in  this  day  be  called  communism,  against 
those  persons  who  claimed  that  a  reasonable  investment  presupposes  the 
right  of  recovery  against  the  solvent  debtor.  From  this  time  on,  the 
"Kitchen  ca,j;net  "  was  changed  by  the  substitution  of  Blair  for  Green.  It 
was  not  until  the  latter  part  of  1830  that  the  quarrel  between  the  Vice 
Preside-nt  and  President  became  public  property. 

In  February,  1831,  Calhoun  published  a  statement  of  the  whole  matter. 
There  was  then  but  one  thing  to  be  done, — to  compass  the  removal  of  his 
three  friends  Ingham,  Branch  and  Berrien,  from  the  cabinet.  To  accom 
plish  this  result,  those  who  were  in  the  councils  of  the  "Kitchen  cabinet" 
resigned,  Eaton  first,  Van  Buren  afterwards.  Van  Buren  stated  his  reasons 
for  resigning  in  a  letter,  dated  April  II,  1831.  The  main  ideas  of  the  letter 
and  those  of  Jackson's  reply,  were,  first,  that  Jackson  did  not  wish  to  retain 
in  his  cabinet  an}'  person  who  might  be  a  candidate  for  the  succession  ; 
second,  that  the  cabinet  was  originally  solely  devoted  to  Jackson,  and  that 


626  ANDREW    JACKSON7. 

he   did   not   wish   any   deviation.      Of  course,  this  had   the   effect   intended. 

In  the  complication  which  followed,  the  affair  of  Mrs.  Eaton,  and  every* 
thing  connected  with  the  Florida  war,  had  a  part.  The  first  test  of  the  mat 
ter  arose  when  Van  Buren  was  appointed  minister  to  England,  and  a  great 
contest  in  the  Senate  arose  as  to  his  confirmation.  Finally,  Calhoun  de 
feated  this  by  his  casting  vote.  Nothing  more  than  this  was  necessary  to 
induce  Jackson  to  take  up  the  battle  against  Calhoun  as  a  personal  matter, 
and  it  was  in  connection  with  this  contest  that  William  L.  Marcy  uttered 
the  famous  words:  "to  the  victors  belong  the  spoils."  The  cabinet  being 
thus  disrupted,  Jackson  appointed  a  new  one,  of  which  Edward  Livingston, 
of  Louisiana,  was  secretary  of  state;  Louis  McLane,  of  Delaware,  was  sec 
retary  of  the  treasury ;  Lewis  Cass,  of  Michigan,  was  secretary  of  war ; 
Levi  Woodbury,  of  New  Hampshire,  was  secretary  of  the  navy  ;  and  Roger 
B.  Taney,  of  Maryland,  was  attorney-general. 

Having  now  come  to  the  end  of  the  private  administration  of  Jackson, 
it  remains  to  give  a  slight  outline  of  the  public  questions  which  were  con 
sidered  during  his  first  term.  The  trade  between  the  American  colonies  of 
Great  Britain  and  the  United  States  had  early  been  made  a  point  of  disa 
greement  between  the  new  power  in  the  west  and  England.  In  the  nego 
tiations  of  1818,  a  complete  reciprocity  had  been  offered  as  to  ships  and 
goods,  but  England  would  not  surrender  the  bonds  dear  to  her  under  her 
colonial  system.  Then  arose  the  policy  of  retaliation,  than  which  none 
more  mistaken  was  ever  introduced  into  the  politics  of  the  United  States. 
It  is  unnecessary  to  repeat  the  provisions  of  those  acts,  which  under  Jeffer 
son  and  his  successors  were  adopted  with  the  intention  of  crippling  English 
commerce,  and  which  accomplished  so  thoroughly  the  paralysis  of  all  Amer 
ican  trade.  The  immediate  result  of  these  was  to  force  concessions, 
which  strengthened  the  popular  faith  in  the  policy  of  the  administration, 
and  at  the  same  time  strengthened  the  popular  bitterness  toward  Great 
Britain.  Early  in  the  administration  of  Jackson,  McLane  was  sent  to 
England  to  open  negotiations  which  had  failed  by  reason  of  the  diplomatic 
deadlock  of  1827.  The  idea  which  prompted  McLane's  appointment,  and 
which  accounted  for  his  policy,  was  that  the  election  of  Jackson  had  rebuked 
the  action  of  the  former  administration,  and  had  left  the  new  President  the 
champion  of  more  liberal  commercial  ideas. 

Finally,  Congress  made  a  provision  that  the  acts  of  restriction  passed 
from  1818  to  1823  should  be  repealed,  and  every  American  ship  should  be 
allowed  the  same  privileges  in  trading  to  the  West  Indies  that  British  ships 
had  in  trading  from  the  United  States,  and  that  they  should  be  allowed  to  con 
vey  goods  from  the  colonies  to  any  known  British  port  to  which  English  ships 
were  allowed  to  carry.  This  act  was  all  that  England  required.  The  colonial 
duties  were  raised ;  a  differential  duty  in  favor  of  the  North  American 
colonies  was  laid,  and  the  trade  was  open.  So  ended  the  most  brilliant 


THE    FIRST    ADMINISTRATION.  62/ 

commercial  achievement  of  the  Jackson  administration.  It  was  boasted  of 
as  a  triumph  of  diplomacy,  yet  it  accomplished  nothing,  save  what  England 
demanded;  protected  nothing  which  America  valued,  and  was  only  a  suc 
cess  for  the  administration  in  the  sense  that  it  for  the  time  being  set  at  rest 
some  questions  which  might  have  been  embarrassing,  and  laid  open  the  way 
for  settling  quietly  and  unobtrusively,  in  favor  of  England,  certain  matters, 
which  might  else  have  made  trouble  for  Jackson  and  the  men  who  were  his 
supporters  and  advisers. 

The  matter  of  the  American  claims  against  France,  and  against  those 
nations  which  had  been  associated  with  Erance  under  Napoleon,  for  the 
spoliation  of  American  commerce,  were  settled  by  virtue  of  a  treaty  signed 
at  Paris  on  July  14,  1831,  by  which  France  agreed  to  pay  the  sum  of  twenty- 
five  millions  of  francs  to  the  United  States. 

No  matter  in  connection  with  the  Jackson  administration  had  more 
influence  immediately,  or  has  had  more  effect  historical!}',  than  his  attitude 
toward  the  Indians  of  the  gulf  states.  Jackson  seemed  to  have  from  the 
first  no  idea  more  elevated  regarding  the  Indians,  than  that  they  were  usurp 
ers  of  the  soil ;  that  whatever  could  be  clone  with  them  consistently  with 
his  own  success,  might  be  done  consistently  with  moral  law.  It  is  impos 
sible,  as  unnecessary,  here  to  follow  the  course  of  the  various  treaties  that 
were  made  by  the  Creek,  Cherokee,  and  Chickasaw  nations  during  his 
administration  ;  it  is  only  necessary  to  say  that  one  of  these  treaties  was 
submitted  to  the  supreme  court  of  the  United  States,  as  a  test  case.  It 
had  been  contracted  by  certain  chiefs  of  the  nation,  as  was  alleged,  under 
the  influence  of  liquor.  Certain!}'  these  chiefs  were  not  in  a  condition  per 
sonally,  or  in  relation  to  their  fellows,  to  make  a  binding  treat}',  still  they 
conveyed  their  lands  to  the  state  of  Georgia.  A  law  of  the  state  of  Georgia 
then  in  force,  provided  that  all  lands  so  transferred,  should  be  divided  by 
lottery  among  the  citizens  of  the  state.  This  made  a  common  interest 
among  these  citizens  opposed  to  that  of  the  Indians.  The  matter  came  to 
the  supreme  court  of  the  United  States  as  a  test  case,  and  was  decided  in 
favor  of  the  Indians.  Jackson,  the  President,  refused  to  exert  the  power 
of  the  executive  to  enforce  a  right  which  the  supreme  judicial  power  of  the 
country  had  determined  belonged  to  the  Indians,  and  left  them  deprived  of 
their  lands  and  helpless,  although  their  title  had  been  thus  approved. 

Next  to  the  Indian  question  came  that  of  internal  improvements.  So 
earl}'  as  1802  this  matter  came  up,  when  it  was  proposed  that  a  road  should 
be  built  to  the  Northwestern  territory.  In  1812  a  provision  was  suggested 
for  a  road  from  Robinstown,  Maine,  to  St.  Mary's,  Georgia.  Thus,  at  the 
very  outset,  practically  came  up  a  difference,  which  must  have  killed  the 
internal  improvement  system  as  a  permanent  policy,  had  circumstances  not 
otherwise  brought  it  to  an  end.  To  bring  to  mind  a  very  familiar  illustra 
tion,  like  the  river  and  harbor  bill,  which  annually  agitates  the  Congress  of 


628  ANDREW    JACKSON. 

to-day,  it  brought  up  local  matters.  The  congressman  from  Maine  would 
not  vote  for  an  improvement  in  Kentucky,  if  the  congressman  from  Ken 
tucky  would  not  vote  for  an  improvement  in  Maine ;  and  this  was  the  whole 
key  to  the  difficulty.  It  was  proposed  in  1816  that  the  bonds  and  profits 
of  the  bank  of  the  United  States  be  devoted  to  internal  improvements.  A 
bill  to  that  effect  was  passed,  and  Madison  had  the  good  sense  to  veto  it. 
Monroe,  in  his  message,  affirmed  the  same  opinion  that  Madison  held. 
The  judgment  of  the  people  was  at  fault  on  the  subject.  Whether  it  arose 
from  the  existence  of  the  bank  or  the  inexperience  of  the  people  as  an  inde 
pendent  nation,  they  still  held  that  an  expenditure  of  funds  by  the  nation 
was  something  in  the  nature  of  a  right  which  was  limited  by  locality,  and 
directed  by  party.  The  party  in  power  could  not  rid  itself  of  the  idea  that 
this  expenditure  should  be  made  in  the  direction  of  its  perpetuity.  The 
sectional  element  could  but  believe  that  every  dollar  w-hich  was  expended 
for  any  locality  against  itself  was  wrongfully  applied.  Thus  appropriations 
for  internal  improvements  ran  wild.  There  is  no  knowing  to  what  extent 
they  might  have  gone,  had  not  Jackson,  in  May,  1830,  put  the  stamp  of  his 
disapproval  upon  the  policy  as  a  whole,  by  vetoing  a  bill  providing  for  a 
subscription  of  the  United  States  to  the  Maysville  and  Lexington  road — 
a  road  prospectively  to  penetrate  the  district  in  which  he  was  strongest.  In 
this  veto  we  see  one  of  the  rare  and  unexpected  illustrations  of  that  power 
in  Jackson  which  his  enemies  call  obstinacy,  and  his  best  friends  consistency. 
It  was  neither  obstinacy  nor  consistency.  To  one  who  looks  at  this  veto 
from  the  standpoint  of  the  historian,  it  is  simply  the  occasional  and  very 
rare  assertion  of  his  own  independence  against  the  opinion  of  men  who 
would  have  made  him  strong  at  the  expense  of  his  personal  reputation. 
Jackson's  worst  enemy  must  see  that  he  had  in  himself  great  elements  of 
strength  ;  that  these  elements  lacked  opportunity  of  manifestation,  perhaps 
because  in  his  latter  days  he  was  under  the  influence  of  men  stronger  in 
method,  if  not  in  brain,  than  himself,  and  because  in  his  early  life  he  was 
denied  those  privileges  which  would  have  given  him  an  opportunity  to 
compete  with  men  often  less  than  himself  in  intellectual  endowments.  It 
may  be  said  that  Jackson's  first  intimation  of  hostility  to  the  policy  of 
internal  improvements  was  never  relinquished.  He  held  in  his  hands  a 
bill  for  the  Louisville  canal,  which  was  also  in  his  own  territory,  and 
another  for  the  establishment  of  lighthouses,  over  a  session,  and  returned 
them  without  his  signature.  At  later  sessions  his  emphatic  disapproval  of 
this  policy  was  absolutely  overruled  by  the  vote  of  Congress,  but  it  may  be 
said  with  truth,  that  following  minutely  the  history  of  the  struggle  on  this 
subject,  Jackson  from  the  first  held  what  is  now  esteemed  to  be  unques 
tionably  the  only  correct  constitutional  view  of  the  subject,  that  the  United 
States  had  properly  no  traffic  with  any  matter  not  strictly  included  within 
the  constitutionally  provided  functions  of  government.  Much  has  been 


THE    FIRST    ADMINISTRATION.  629 

written  in  these  pages,  drawn  as  justly  as  possible  from  the  pages  rf  history, 
and  altogether  to  the  disadvantage  of  Jackson.  It  is  only  proper  to  say  that 
in  this  one  matter  of  internal  improvements  he  took  and  held  at  once  a 
wise,  a  proper,  and  an  unpopular  stand  upon  a  great  public  question. 

The  tariff  question  was  one  of  the  most  serious  of  the  Jackson  acminisv- 
tration.  The  fact  remains  recorded  in  the  political  history  of  to-day,  that  the 
tariff  was  in  that  day  as  it  is  now,  an  injustice  as  regards  the  purely  produc 
ing  communities  of  the  United  States,  but  the  tariff  at  that  time  lacked,  as 
it  does  not  lack  now,  the  advocacy  of  persons  subtle  and  skillful  enough  to 
blind  the  eyes  of  the  producers  to  this  fact,  consequently  the  south  as  a 
whole  was  set  absolutely  against  the  tariff  policy,  which  its  people  considered 
taxed  them  for  the  benefit  of  the  manufacturing  producers  of  the  north  and 
east.  This  appeared  everywhere  throughout  the  cotton  states.  Meetings 
were  held;  in  private  conversation,  in  stump  speeches,  even  in  sermons  this 
artificial  system  set  up  for  the  protection  of  the  east  against  the  south  (as 
the\'  viewed  it;  was  made  the  subject  of  criticism  and  condemnation.  In  no 
matter  relating  to  public  interests  did  the  Jackson  men  make  a  worse  record 
than  upon  this  Again  quoting  Sumner,  the  condition  of  affairs  may  be 
stated:  "The  industrial  interests  of  twelve  millions  of  people  had  been 
thrown  into  the  arena  of  economical  principles,  and  there  was  no  information 
about  the  industrial  state  of  the  country,  or  about  the  special  industries;  it 
being  assumed  that  the  legislature  could,  would,  and  was  about  to  confer 
favors  and  advantages,  there  was  a  scramble  to  see  who  should  get  the  most. 
At  the  same  time  party  ambitions  and  strifes  seized  upon  the  industrial  inter 
ests  as  capital  for  President-making."  The  tariff  then  adopted  has  passed 
into  history  as  the  tariff  of  abominations.  It  is  without  the  province  of  this 
work  to  state  its  particular  provisions:  for  those  the  reader  must  turn  to 
broader  treatises  ;  yet  it  remains  a  fact  that  the  wildest  vagaries  of  modern 
protectionists  Irive  produced  nothing  more  absurd." 

The  matter  of  nullification  had  its  head  and  front  in  Calhoun,  and  may 
be  said  to  have  arisen  from  the  tariff.  As  has  been  said  before,  the  south 
erners  were  bitterly  opposed  to  protection.  They  felt  that  the  operation  of 
the  system  was  distinctively  against  their  interest  ;  imposing  a  tax  upon 
them  for  the  benefit  of  others  who  happened  to  hold  the  balance  of  the  fed 
eral  power.  The\"  looked  upon  it  as  an  experiment,  for  which  they  had  paid 
the  expense,  and  which,  having  proved  a  failure,  should  be  abandoned.  As 
early  as  1828  the  first  declaration  of  nullification  principles  in  relation  to  the 
tariff  was  introduced  by  McDuffie,  of  South  Carolina.  He  made  a  careful 
review  of  the  subject,  and  declared  as  a  result  that  the  tax  fell  upon  the 
southern  states  while  the  benefit  accrued  to  those  of  the  north.  It  is  impos 
sible  to  follow  here  the  intricate  course  of  this  insidious  doctrine  of  nullifica 
tion,  which  certainly  had  a  degree  of  excuse  in  the  state  of  affairs  which 
then  existed.  Its  primary  statement  \vas  this,  that  in  so  far  as  any  provision 


(53O  ANDREW    JACKSON. 

of  the  Constitution  protected  or  excused  a  measure  which  was  inimical  to 
the  national  rights  of  a  given  state,  that  doctrine  was  null  and  void.  From 
this  word  "null"  originated  the  phrase  so  significant  in  the  history  of 
America,  "Nullification." 

Jackson,  in  1831,  wrote  a  letter  to  certain  citizens  of  Charleston,  who 
had  invited  him  to  deliver  a  4th  of  July  oration  in  that  city,  in  which  he  indi 
cated  clearly  his  opposition  to  nullification.  This  announcement  came  as  a 
surprise  to  the  south,  and  remains  to-day  as  a  surprise  to  every  person  who 
has  studied  Jackson's  antecedents  and  associations.  He  nullified  the  Consti 
tution  in  1815,  when  he  imprisoned  a  judge  of  the  supreme  court,  in  New 
Orleans,  for  interposing  a  process  of  that  court  between  himself  and  a  prisoner 
whom  he  had  arrested.  He  nullified  the  Constitution  in  1817,  when  he  hanged 
two  chiefs  of  the  Creek  nation  who  had  been  deccyed  aboard  an  American 
man-of-war  at  St.  Marks  ;  he  nullified  the  Constitution  in  the  same  year 
when  he  executed  two  British  subjects  in  Florida,  against  whom  there  was 
not  even  fair  prinia  facie  evidence  ;  he  nullified  the  Constitution  in  Florida 
in  a  later  year  when  he  expelled  a  United  States  judge  from  its  limits  for 
daring  to  release  a  second  prisoner  from  his  custody  under  process  of  the 
court ; — yet  he  was  opposed  to  nullification. 

The   great  question    of   the   Jackson   administration   was   that   of   tin 
national  bank.     The  bank  of  North  America  was  first  proposed  and  formed 
previous   to  the  adoption   of  the   Constitution.     From  that   time  on  it  wa~? 
made  the  subject  of  popular  and  partisan  contests.      When,  after   the  acces 
sion  of  Washington,  Hamilton  founded  the  bank  of  the  United  States,   h? 
met  the   same   doubts   and   disapproval,    reinforced  by  no  less  a  man   thar 
Thomas  Jefferson.     From   this   time  on,  until   Jackson  had   passed  into  pri 
vate  life,    there  never   was  a  day  when  the  national   bank  was  not  a  subjec"- 
for  controversy. 

The  old  bank  instituted  by  Hamilton,  went  out  of  existence,  and  left 
for  the  country  only  the  local  state  banks  with  their  flimsy  currency,  worth 
whatever  one  deemed  it  worth ;  received  in  one  place,  rejected  in  another  : 
without  a  basis  of  anything  valuable,  dependent  purely  upon  the  hopeless 
credit  of  local  institutions.  In  the  session  of  1815  and  1816  there  came  up  ? 
plan  for  a  bank  intended  to  accomplish  a  return  to  specie  payment,  rathe/ 
than  (as  had  been  the  former  national  banks)  a  reserve  for  the  national  gov 
ernment.  Its  charter  became  a  law  in  the  spring  of  1816.  In  its  constitu 
tion  it  approved  the  wisdom  of  the  banking  system  which  Jefferson  had  so- 
strongly  opposed  in  the  early  days,  by  very  closely  following  that  of  Alex 
ander  Hamilton.  It  was  far  from  perfect ;  it  was  equally  far  from  being 
what  its  enemies  would  have  men  believe,  either  a  fraud  upon  the  public  or 
a  creation  of  a  financial  visionary.  It  was  first  established  in  Philadelphia, 
with  nineteen  branches,  which  ultimately  grew  to  twenty-five.  Nominally, 
specie  payments  were  resumed  in  February,  1817;  after  which  time,  af 


THE    FIRST    ADMINISTRATION.  63  I 

Congress  declared,  the  treasury  of  the  United  States  received  on1}- 
specie,  or  notes  of  the  bank  of  the  United  States  or  of  specie  paying  banl.s, 
or  treasury  notes,  in  payment  of  indebtedness  to  the  government.  It  wl.I 
thus  be  seen  that  Congress  from  the  first  legislated  in  favor  of  this  new 
scheme. 

The  legal  restraints  upon  its  circulation  did  not  permit  of  a  sufficient 
currency  to  transact  its  business.  There  grew  up  then,  in  1827,  a  system  of 
branch  drafts  issued  by  any  one  of  these  twenty-five  outside  branches  of  the* 
bank,  which  were  passed  into  circulation,  and  in  effect,  being  accepted  by 
the  main  bank,  increased  its  circulation.  It  will  be  seen  that  this  expedient 
introduced  an  indefinite  and  irresponsible  inflation  of  the  currency.  The 
bank  received  the  deposits  of  the  United  States.  It  was  the  accepted  and 
authorized  fiscal  agent  of  the  United  States;  it  represented,  as  nearly  as 
anything  in  those  days  could  represent,  the  treasury  of  the  United  States 
as  it  now  exists.  Every  note  and  draft  of  that  bank  bore  the  endorsement 
of  the  general  government  ;  consequently  the  utterly  unlimited  and  irre 
sponsible  issue  of  branch  drafts  by  these  twenty-five  scattered  and 
unrestrained  outside  agencies,  resulted  in  producing  a  currency  uncon 
templated  ;  unprovided  for;  irredeemable;  a  currency  which  could  only 
result,  for  the  bank  itself  and  for  the  people  who  accepted  it  for 
just  debts,  in  irretrievable  ruin.  It  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  United 
States  was  a  large  stockholder  in  the  bank  of  the  United  States.  In  1829, 
and  thereafter,  there  arose  not  only  in  the  mind  of  Jackson,  but  in  the 
opinion  of  many  who  were  his  opponents,  an  idea  that  the  bank  of  the 
United  States  was  not  only  an  objectionable  financial  element  in  the  govern 
ment,  but  was  being  used  for  political  purposes. 

Congress  declared  the  treasury  ought  to  receive  only  specie  or  notes  of 
the  Bank  of  the  United  States  or  of  specie  paying  banks  or  treasury  notes. 
It  was  the  old  eff  >rt  to  give  equality  between  paper  and  coin  by  legislative 
fiat.  During  its  first  two  years  the  directors  of  the  bank  played  with  it 
like  a  new  toy,  and  carried  it  to  the  verge  of  ruin.  In  1819  Langdon 
Cheves,  of  South  Carolina,  became  its  president,  and  by  patient  and  faith 
ful  labor  succeeded  in  placing  it  in  a  condition  of  comparative  financial 
soundness.  In  1827  Congress  passed  a  law  which  required  that  the  officers 
of  the  parent  bank  should  sign  all  notes  issued  by  branches.  This  was  an 
enormous  task  and  to  avoid  it,  in  an  unlucky  moment  the  idea  of  branch 
drafts  was  suggested.  They  were  drawn  by  any  and  all  branches,  upon  the 
parent  bank,  to  the  order  of  a  branch  officer,  endorsed  by  him  and  placed 
in  circulation.  This,  of  course,  opened  the  way  to  unlimited  and  utterly 
irresponsible  inflation  of  a  currency  already  far  enough  removed  from 
stability. 

Organized  and  conducted  as  it  was,  that  the  bank  should  become  mixed 
with  politics  was  inevitable.  It  did  become  so  involved,  and  its  downfall 


632  ANDREW    JACKSON. 

was  the  result  Nicholas  Biddle,  an  honest  but  somewhat  opinionated  man, 
a  gentleman  and  a  scholar,  was  the  president  of  the  bank  in  1823,  and 
thereafter.  He  was  a  good  financier  after  the  loose  ideas  of  the  day,  but  a 
very  impolitic  man,  and  his  independent  refusal  to  be  governed  by  Ingham, 
secretary  of  the  treasury,  in  the  matter  of  the  removal  of  an  officer  of  the 
Portsmouth  (New  Hampshire)  bank,  supposed  to  be  inimical  to  Jackson, 
led  to  the  waging  of  a  bitter  and  successful  war  on  the  part  of  the  adminis 
tration  and  against  the  bank.  There  is  no  question  that  the  real  explanation  of 
this  contest  was  the  desire  on  the  part  of  Ingham  to  secure  the  bank  to  the 
administration  as  a  political  machine,  and  Biddle's  determination  to  run  it 
on  business  principles.  In  Jackson's  first  message  he  called  the  attention  of 
Congress  to  the  fact  that  the  charter  of  the  bank  would  expire  in  1836,  and 
said  there  were  grave  doubts  as  to  the  expediency  of  its  recharter  and  as  to 
its  constitutionality  on  the  part  of  a  large  portion  of  his  fellow-citizens. 

This  reference  to  popular  feeling  in  a  presidential  message  was  a  new 
idea  to  the  people,  and  caused  no  little  sensation.  The  evident  declaration 
of  war  upon  the  bank,  at  the  outset  of  his  administration,  created  alarm, 
and,  from  that  time,  the  struggle  between  the  bank  and  the  administration 
was  understood  to  be  to  the  death. 

Again,  in  1830,  the  President  called  attention  to  the  bank  issue  and,  in 
a  very  independent  way,  proposed  a  bank  which  should  be  a  branch  of  the 
treasury  department.  No  notice  was  taken  of  this  recommendation  during 
the  session  of  1830—31,  but  several  test  questions  which  came  up  indirectly, 
clearly  indicated  that  the  bank  was  in  the  ascendant. 

With  this  meagre  outline  of  the  first  administration,  it  is  necessary  to 
pass  to  the  second. 


WILLIAM    WIRT. 


THE   SECOND    ADMINISTPAT1ON.  633 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  SECOND  ADM  IN1STRATION— CONCLUSION. 

THE  campaign  of  1832  \vas  an  easy  one  for  Jackson,  by  reason  of  the 
division  in  the  opposition,  caused  by  the  murder  of  Morgan,  the 
Batavia  bricklayer.  William  \Yirt  for  president,  Amos  Ellmaker  for  vice- 
president,  was  the  ticket  of  the  anti-masons.  Clay  was  the  regular  National 
Republican  candidate,  while  Jackson,  supported  by  a  united,  organized,  and 
well  disciplined  army,  was  at  the  head  of  the  Democratic  ticket. 

The  direct  issue  made  by  the  Republicans,  under  the  leadership  of 
Clay,  was  the  preservation  of  the  United  States  bank,  and  was  met  by 
the  Democrats,  led  by  Jackson,  by  a  determination  to  overthrow  and 
destroy  it.  Jackson  loved  a  fight.  He  was  a  formidable  adversary  in  any 
conflict,  whether  political  or  military,  in  which  he  chose  to  take  a  part. 
He  never  was  more  in  earnest  than  in  his  opposition  to  the  bank.  The 
campaign  became  a  struggle  in  which  the  popularity  of  Jackson  was  arrayed 
against  the  popularity  of  the  bank.  Charges  were  formulated  against  it 
about  as  follows:  (i.)  Usury.  (2.)  Using  branch  drafts  as  currency.  (3.) 
Sales  of  coin  by  weight.  (4.)  Sales  of  public  stocks,  against  charter  pro 
hibition.  (5.)  Gifts  to  roads,  canals,  etc.  (6.)  Building  houses  to  rent  or 
sell.  These  were  the  particulars  in  which  the  bank  was  alleged  to  have  acted 
illegally.  It  was  also  charged  with  :  (a)  subsidizing  the  press ;  (b)  favor 
itism  ;  (c)  exporting  specie  and  interfering  with  its  normal  movement;  (d) 
improper  increase  of  its  branches ;  (e)  improper  expansion  of  the  circula 
tion  ;  (f)  failure  to  serve  the  public;  (g)  with  mismanagement  of  the  public 
deposits;  (h)  postponement  of  payment  of  three  per  cent  securities;  (i) 
incomplete  number  of  directors;  (j)  large  expenditures  for  printing;  (k) 
large  contingent  expenditures;  (1)  loans  to  members  of  Congress  in  advance 


ANDREW   JACKSON. 

of  appropriations  ;  (m)  refusal  to  give  a  list  of  Connecticut  stockholders  for 
purposes  of  taxation ;  (r)  usurpation  of  control  of  the  bank  by  exchange 
committee  of  the  board  of  directors  to  the  exclusion  of  the  other  directors. 
The  election  resulted  in  an  overwhelming  victory  for  Jackson,  who 
received  219  electoral  votes,  to  49  for  Clay,  while  the  popular  vote  was 
707,217  for  the  former,  but  328,561  for  the  latter,  and  254,720  for  Wirt. 

The  project  finally  adopted  by  Jackson,  was  to  replace  the  bank  of  the 
United  States  as  a  public  depository,  by  distributing  the  monies  of  the  peo 
ple  among  state  banks  in  the  leading  cities,  selecting  a  Washington  bank  as 
the  central  depository  and  correspondent.  The  Bank  of  the  Metropolis,  of 
Washington,  was  chosen  as  this  central  fiscal  agent,  but  refusing  to  admit  a 
representative  of  the  government  among  its  officials,  the  idea  of  a  central 
bank  was  given  over  and  R.  M.  Whitney  was  named  as  financial  agent  of 
the  treasury,  with  the  duty  of  corresponding  with  and  overseeing  the  vari 
ous  banks  of  deposit.  This  gave  him  tremendous  and  dangerous  power 
which  it  was  later  discovered  he  grossly  abused. 

The  first  cause  of  Jackson's  enmity  to  the  Bank  of  the  United  States, 
was  ostensibly  that  it  had  been  a  political  engine  ;  really  that  it  had  been 
made  a  political  engine  against  himself.  This  new  system  was  from  its  con 
ception  intended  to  form  a  strong  and  connected  Jackson  organization  ;  the 
hundreds  of  letters  received  from  banks  applying  for  deposits,  since  they  be 
came  public  property,  had,  as  the  burthen  of  their  claim,  not  the  financial 
strength  and  safety  of  the  institutions,  but  the  fealty  of  their  officers  and 
stockholders  to  the  cause  of  Jackson.  These  applications  were  considered, 
accepted  or  dismissed  as  a  political  matter,  and,  if  the  Bank  of  the  United 
States  had  soiled  its  garments  with  the  smut  of  partizanship,  Jackson 
dragged  the  whole  financial  system  of  the  United  States  through  the  mire. 

When  all  was  done,  how  did  the  Government  stand  under  the  new 
system  ?  Before,  the  Bank  of  the  United  States,  chartered  by  Congress 
and  under  the  direct  supervision  and  control  of  the  Government,  had  paid  a 
heavy  bond  for  the  privilege  of  acting  as  custodian  of  the  public  funds. 
This  bank  was  unquestionably  solvent, — so  safe  that  its  stock  fell  but  one 
and  one-half  per  cent,  upon  the  announcement  of  Jackson's  intention  of 
withdrawing  the  deposits,  and  almost  immediately  recovered.  It  had  its 
abuses,  but  these  were  not  serious,  and,  such  as  they  were,  could  have 
been  readily  remedied  by  the  provisions  of  a  rechartering  act.  A  larger 
bond  would  have  been  promptly,  if  not  willingly,  paid,  and  the  issue  of 
branch  drafts  was  susceptible  of  easy  regulation.  The  new  system  placed 
the  funds  of  the  United  States  in  the  custody  of  more  than  twenty  banks, 
in  almost  as  many  states,  chartered  under  various  laws,  some  solvent  and 
responsible,  some  questionable,  some  clearly  unsafe.  The  relations  of  the 
Government  with  the  Bank  of  the  United  States  were  slow  in  being  classed; 
the  business  of  years  could  not  be  settled  in  a  day.  Jackson  feared  that 


THE    SECOND    ADMINISTRATION.  635 

the  old  bank  would  take  revenge  upon  the  new  depositories  by  peremp 
torily  demanding  a  settlement  of  balances.  This  very  simple  and  proper 
demand  was  then  considered  an  act  of  cruelty  and  injustice.  To  guard 
against  possible  injury  by  such  action,  he  caused  to  be  delivered  to  the 
various  banks,  heavy  drafts  of  the  treasury  against  the  balance  of  Govern 
ment  deposits  still  remaining  with  the  old  bank.  No  such  revengeful  effort 
was  made,  but  there  was  great  abuse  of  these  drafts  on  the  part  of  the  state 
banks.  The  president  of  the  Union  bank  of  Maryland  cashed  a  Govern 
ment  draft  of  one  hundred  thousand  dollars,  and  used  the  proceeds  in  stock 
speculations;  the  Manhattan  Company  used  one  of  the  drafts  for  five  hun 
dred  thousand  dollars,  and  other  banks  of  doubtful  solvency  carried  the 
drafts  among  their  assets,  in  order  to  make  such  a  showing  as  to  be  entitled 
to  receive  the  deposits.  All  these  wrongful  acts  the  administration  did  its  best 
to  conceal,  and  only  the  inquisitiveness  of  Congress  finally  exposed  them. 
On  the  9th  of  December,  1833,  the  Bank  of  the  United  States  memo 
rialized  Congress  against  the  removal  of  the  deposits.  Its  champion  in  the 
Senate  was  Henry  Clay,  while  Thomas  Benton  led  the  administration  part}' 
in  opposition.  For  a  time  the  friends  of  the  bank  were  in  the  majority  in 
both  houses,  defeating  all  measures  in  regard  to  the  removal  of  the  deposits, 
and  succeeded  in  adopting  a  resolution  offered  by  Clay  censuring  Jackson 
for  assuming  power  and  authority  not  conferred  by  the  Constitution  and  the 
laws,  but  derogatory  to  both;  but  later,  in  1836,  Benton  succeeded  in  obtain 
ing  the  adoption  of  a  resolution  expunging  the  record  of  censure  from  the 
journal  of  the  Senate.  Thus  was  Jackson  vindicated.  It  was  a  source  of 
ereat  gratification  to  him  to  be  thus  exonerated. 

o  *> 

The  deposits  were  finally  removed  from  the  Bank  of  the  United  States 
and  distributed  among  state  banks,  which  came  to  be  called  "pet  banks." 
Thus  did  Jackson  gain  his  point.  The  charter  of  the  United  States  bank 
expired  March  3d,  in  1836.  The  Pennsylvania  legislature  was  induced  to 
grant  the  bank  a  state  charter.  The  act  was  dated  February  18,  1836.  It 
is  conceded  that  this  legislative  enactment  was  consummated  through  fraud 
and  corruption,  as  the  bank  agreed  to  pay  for  its  charter  the  sum  of  two 
million  five  hundred  thousand  dollars  as  a  bonus,  one  hundred  thousand 
dollars  per  year  for  twenty  years  for  school  purposes,  to  loan  the  state  a 
million  a  year  at  four  per  cent.,  and  subscribe  six  hundred  and  forty  thou 
sand  dollars  to  railroads  and  turnpikes.  These  unwise  engagements  ulti 
mately  caused  its  ruin.  The  bank  failed  three  times  in  the  five  years  suc 
ceeding  that  of  its  state  charter,  viz:  May  IO,  1837;  October  9,  1839  ;  and 
February  4,  1841,  when  it  was  wholly  ruined.  The  stockholders  lost  every 
dollar  of  their  investment. 

The  common  verdict  has  been  that  the  ultimate  failure  and  ruin  of  the 
bank  proved  that  Jackson  was  right  in  the  unrelenting  war  which  he  waged 
against  this  at  one  time  great  and  really  valuable  financial  institution.  Up 


036  ANDREW    JACKSON. 

to  the  time  of  its  state  charter  the  bank  was  sound,  strong,  and  without 
doubt  prudently  and  wisely  managed.  During  the  next  five  years  it 
launched  into  the  wildest  and  most  reckless  methods  of  banking,  endeavored 
to  prove  itself  a  public  benefactor,  and  was  robbed  and  plundered  by  its  offi 
cers.  Its  end  was  ignominious  and  brought  disgrace  upon  all  concerned  in 
its  management  as  well  as  upon  the  legislature  that  granted  it  its  new 
charter.  The  ruin  of  the  bank  served  but  to  increase  the  popularity  of 
Jackson,  but  an  honest  regard  for  truth  and  candor  compels  the  student  of 
history  to  admit  that  the  bank  war  up  to  the  year  1836  was  unwise,  unjust, 
and  therefore  discreditable  to  Jackson. 

In  1834  Jackson  became  involved  in  very  important  diplomatic  relations 
with  France.  By  virtue  of  the  treaty  of  1831,  the  French  nation  agreed  to 
pay  the  United  States  certain  sums  of  money,  and  had  failed  to  keep  her 
engagements.  Jackson  in  his  annual  message  of  1834,  called  attention  in 
his  characteristically  emphatic  manner  to  this  failure  upon  the  part  of 
France.  He  contended  that  if  the  French  nation  did  not  discharge  her  en 
gagements  before  a  certa;n  time  Congress  would  be  justified  in  passing  a 
law  authorizing  reprisals.  The  French  journals  called  this  a  menace,  and 
maintained  that  France  could  not  then  pay  without  dishonor.  In  Decem 
ber,  1834,  the  French  chambers  refused  by  vote  to  appropriate  money  to 
pay  American  indemnities;  but  the  following  April  they  passed  the  appro 
priation,  stipulating,  however,  that  no  money  could  be  paid  until  "satisfac 
tory  explanations"  of  the  President's  message  should  be  received.  In  his 
message  of  1835  Jackson  reviewed  the  whole  matter,  declared  he  had  never 
u.sed  menace,  and  said  he  should  n«ver  apologize.  In  1836,  January  iSth,  the 
President  sent  to  the  Senate  a  special  message  on  the  relations  to  France, 
recommending  coercive  measures — proposing  to  exclude  French  ships  and 
products  from  the  ports  of  the  United  States.  The  English  government 
at  this  point  offered  its  services  as  mediator,  and  obtained  from  France  a 
statement  that  the  President's  message  of  1835  had  removed  the  bad  im 
pressions  of  that  of  1834,  and  thus  the  breach  was  healed,  and  the  indemnity 
was  ordered  paid  March  19,  1836.  The  entire  diplomatic  negotiation  was 
creditable  to  Jackson,  who  was  in  the  right  and  firmly  maintained  it,  while 
France's  part  in  the  affair  proved  rather  humiliating. 

In  1833  slavery  was  abolished  in  the  British  West  Indies,  and  the  event 
produced  greatly  increased  agitation  of  the  slavery  question  in  the  United 
States.  New  societies  were  organized,  Congress  was  petitioned  to  abolish 
slavery  in  the  District  of  Columbia,  and  anti-slavery  pamphlets  and  news 
papers  were  sent  to  the  south,  causing  in  that  section  the  most  vehement 
indignation.  The  people  at  Charlestown,  South  Carolina,  insisted  that  their 
postmaster  should  not  deliver  these  incendiary  documents  to  the  persons 
to  whom  they  were  addressed.  That  personage  appealed  to  the  postmaster- 
general,  Amos  Kendall,  for  orders.  Kendall,  August  4,  1835,  replied  in 


THE    SECOND    ADMINISTRATION.  637 

an  ambiguous  way,  throwing  the  Charlestown  postmaster  upon  his  own  dis 
cretion  in  the  matter,  but  added:  "  By  no  act  of  mine,  official,  or  private 
could  I  be  induced  to  aid,  knowingly,  in  giving  circulation  to  papers  of  this 
description,  directly  or  indirectly.  \Ye  owe  an  obligation  to  the  laws,  but 
a  higher  one  to  the  communities  in  which  we  live ;  and,  if  the  former  be 
perverted  to  destroy  the  latter,  it  is  patriotism  to  disregard  them.  Enter 
taining  these  views  I  cannot  sanction  and  will  not  condemn  your  refusal  to 
deliver  this  most  inflammatory,  incendiary  and  insurrectionary  matter." 

The  public  excitement  growing  out  of  this  action  of  the  anti-slavery 
societies  was  increased  by  our  complications  with  Mexico.  That  country 
had  abolished  slavery  in  1829.  Meanwhile  American  citizens  from  the 
southern  states  had  settled  in  Texas,  taking  with  them  their  slaves.  They 
resented  the  abolition  decree,  and  Mexico  was  obliged  to  make  the  abolition 
nugatory  as  to  Texas.  In  1829  the  United  States  endeavored  to  buy  Texas, 
offering  five  million  dollars  for  it.  In  1830  the  Mexican  government  forbade 
Americans  to  settle  in  Texas.  In  1833  a  revolution  broke  out  in  Mexico, 
and  in  1835  when  Santa  Anna  tried  to  extend  his  authority  over  Texas,  he 
was  defied  and  defeated.  In  1836  Texas  declared  her  independence.  She 
adopted  a  constitution  with  the  strongest  provisions  in  favor  of  slavery. 
Under  the  leadership  of  Samuel  Houston,  the  Texans  vanquished  the  Mexi 
cans,  and  April  21,  1836,  at  the  decisive  battle  of  San  Jacinto,  routed  and 
captured  Santa  Anna.  In  July,  1836,  Congress  declared  that  the  independ 
ence  of  Texas  should  be  acknowledged  as  soon  as  Texas  had  proved  her 
ability  to  maintain  it.  In  1837  tnc  Senate  recognized  her  independence  by 
a  vote  of  twenty-three  to  nineteen.  The  same  year  the  Texas  agent  made 
a  proposal  for  annexation.  The  opposition  to  annexation  was  very  strong 
in  the  north,  and  the  proposition  was  declined.  The  next  move  was  a  pre 
sentation  of  charges  of  a  most  frivolous  character  by  the  United  States 
against  Mexico.  Mexico  proposed  arbitration  in  regard  to  them,  which 
proposition  was  declined.  The  war  with  Mexico,  which  is  universally  re 
garded  in  this  day  as  unjust,  and  as  a  shame  to  the  American  nation,  finally 
took  place,  (although  not  while  Jackson  was  President)  ostensibly  to  satisfy 
these  charges,  but  really  for  the  purpose  of  robbing  Mexico  of  Texas,  and 
obtaining  more  slave  territory  for  the  south. 

During  Jackson's  second  administration  the  new  nation  rapidly  grew  in 
material  resources,  in  population  and  in  influence.  The  country  was  rich 
in  territorial  possession,  and  the  people  were  full  of  energy,  and  the 
desire  to  own  and  develop  landed  property  was  widely  prevalent. 
The  nation  began  to  be  conscious  for  the  first  time  of  her  giant 
energies,  her  innate  strength  and  the  wonderful  possibilities  of  growth 
and  of  power  that  were  surely  hers.  There  came,  as  an  outgrowth 
of  so  great  activity  and  rapid  progress,  many  social  commotions  and  a 
wide-spread  disregard  for  law  and  order.  It  was  an  era  of  brawls  and  duels, 


638  ANDREW    JACKSON. 

of  hanging  negroes  and  abolitionists  at  the  South,  and  of  producing  riots 
by  mobs  of  rowdies,  trades-unionists  and  anti-bank  organizations  at  the 
North.  Still  the  country  prospered,  and  Jackson's  firmness,  his  iron  will, 
his  courage  in  maintaining  the  rights  due  this  country  from  foreign  powers, 
had  much  to  do  in  obtaining  a  proper  recognition  from  older  and  more 
powerful  nations;  and  the  fact  that  the  United  States  was  beginning  to  be 
looked  upon  abroad  as  a  rapidly  growing  nation,  had  its  effect  in  increasing 
the  tide  of  immigration  from  the  old  countries  to  the  new  one.  Her  his 
tory,  her  fortunes,  her  government,  her  resources,  and  the  extent  of  her 
territory  began  to  be  more  widely  discussed  than  ever  before,  and  the  fact 
that  the  new  country  afforded  rare  opportunities  for  all  who  were  ambitious 
to  prosper  became  more  widely  known. 

In  1834  an  important  case — that  of  Briscoe  vs.  The  Bank  of  the  Com 
monwealth  of  Kentucky — was  argued  before  the  Supreme  Court,  and  in 
1837  was  decided  by  that  body.  The  case  was  so  remarkable  both  for  the 
earnestness  and  warmth  with  which  it  was  contested,  and  for  the  important 
results  which  were  reached  by  virtue  of  its  decision,  that  it  is  deserving  of  a 
short  review.  In  1830  a  promissory  note  was  given  by  Briscoe  and  others 
which  was  not  paid  when  due,  the  defendants  pleading  in  the  State  Circuit 
Court  "no  consideration"  "on  the  ground  that  the  note  was  given  for  a 
loan  of  notes  of  the  Bank  of  the  Commonwealth  which  were  '  bills  of  credit' 
within  the  prohibition  of  the  Constitution,  and  therefore  of  no  value. "  The 
court  decided  in  favor  of  the  bank,  and  that  decision  was  affirmed  by  the 
higher  State  court  on  appeal,  whereupon  the  defendants  brought  it  before 
the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States  on  a  writ  of  error,  which  at  that 
time  consisted  of  seven  judges,  of  whom  Marshall  was  the  Chief  Justice. 
The  court  did  not  reach  a  decision,  by  reason  of  a  majority  of  the  whole 
bench  failing  to  concur  in  pronouncing  the  notes  of  the  Bank  of  the  Com 
monwealth  bills  of  credit  under  the  decision  of  Craig  vs.  Missouri.  Briscoe's 
case  came  up  again  in  1837,  ^vc  °f  tne  court  being  appointees  of  Jackson. 
The  decisions  of  the  State  courts  were  affirmed,  it  being  held  that  a  bill  of 
credit  "  is  a  paper  issued  by  the  sovereign  power,  containing  a  pledge  of  its 
faith  and  designed  to  circulate  as  money," — that  is,  the  State  must  issue  the 
notes  and  pledge  its  faith  for  their  payment  in  order  to  constitute  them  bills 
of  credit.  The  decision,  placing  as  it  did,  the  notes  of  a  Commonwealth 
bank  beyond  the  reach  of  the  prohibition  of  the  Constitution,  made  it  pos 
sible  and  indeed  easy  for  any  State  to  avoid  the  constitutional  prohibition. 
A  species  of  wild-cat  banking  ensued  in  the  Southwestern  States  as  a  con 
sequence,  bringing  in  the  end  disaster  and  ruin  to  thousands.  Marshall  in 
1834  and  Story  in  1837  held  that  the  bank  notes  were  bills  of  credit;  had 
this  opinion  prevailed  the  system  of  wild  and  reckless  banking  which  dev 
astated  the  West  between  1837  and  1850,  would  never  have  been  inaugu 
rated. 


THE    SECOND    ADMINISTRATION.  639 

In  1835  an  insane  man  by  the  name  of  Richard  Lawrence  attempted  ta 
shoot  Jackson  in  the  rotunda  of  the  capitol  by  snapping  two  pistols  at  him, 
neither  of  which  was  discharged.  The  President  refused  to  believe  the  man 
insane,  but  maintained  he  was  the  tool  of  a  personal  enemy.  Upon  trial, 
however,  Lawrence  was  acquitted  upon  the  strongest  evidence  of  insanity, 
and  was  given  into  custody  as  an  insane  person. 

It  was  during  Jackson's  second  administration  that  the  name  Locofocos 
came  to  be  applied  to  the  democrats.  A  faction  of  the  party  calling  itself 
the  "  Equal  rights  part}',"  or  the  "  Jeffersonian  Anti-monopolists,"  revolted 
and  promulgated  the  following  platform  :  No  distinction  between  men  save 
merit;  gold  and  silver  the  only  legitimate  money ;  no  monopolies ;  strict 
adherence  to  the  Constitution;  no  bank  charters  by  states;  approval  of 
Jackson's  administration;  election  of  president  by  direct  popular  vote.  The 
platform  was  popular,  and  the  equal  rights  wing  of  the  party  rapidly  grew 
in  numbers  and  influence.  October  29th,  both  factions  met  in  Tammany 
hall  to  nominate  a  congressman  and  other  officers.  The  old  faction  entered 
by  the  back  door,  and  effected  an  organization  before  the  front  entrance  was 
opened.  At  the  hour  for  meeting  the  equal  rights  party  poured  in,  nomi 
nated  and  elected  their  chairman,  ignoring  their  brethren  of  the  older  faction. 
The  latter  left  the  hall  in  disgust,  but  before  going  they  took  care  to  extin 
guish  the  lights,  leaving  the  anti-monopolists  in  the  dark.  The  anti-monopo 
lists,  however,  had  provided  themselves  against  such  an  emergency  with 
locofoco  matches  and  locofoco  cigars — cigars  with  self-lighting  matches 
at  the  end — and  thus  rekindled  their  lights  and  made  their  nominations. 
On  the  next  day  the  Courier  and  Enquirer  dubbed  the  equal  rights  party 
the  Locofocos — a  name  that  fastened  upon  that  faction  and  later  passed  to 
the  whole  Jackson-Van  lUrren  party. 

Van  Buren  was  Jackson's  preference  for  the  Presidency  in  1836,  and 
was  elected,  receiving  one  hundred  and  seventy  electoral  votes  to  seventy- 
three  for  Harrison,  and  had  a  majority  over  all  candidates  of  forty-six. 
Three  days  after  the  inauguration  of  his  successor,  Jackson  started  for  his 
home  in  Tennessee.  At  all  points  along  his  homeward  journey  he  received 
evidences  of  the  people's  regard.  Andrew  Jackson  was  their  idol,  and  he 
never  lost  his  hold  upon  his  popularity  with  the  American  people.  At 
Nashville  he  lived  a  quiet  life,  save  that  he  was  frequently  sought  out  by 
those  who  were  anxious  to  obtain  his  influence  in  favor  of  any  cherished 
project  or  measure.  In  1844  he  bent  all  his  influence  to  secure  the  election 
of  Polk,  which  was  his  last  public  activity.  He  died  on  the  8th  day  of  Junef 
1845,  in  his  seventy-ninth  year,  the  most  successful  American  citizen  who 
had  as  yet  appeared  in  public  life.  His  ambition  had  been  fully  satisfied;  he 
had  wielded  the  largest  measure  of  power,  had  beaten  his  enemies  in  nearly 
every  struggle -in  which  he  engaged,  and  died  loved  and  honored  by  the 
majority  of  his  countrymen. 


640  ANDREW    JACKSON. 

Diverse  as  have  been  the  views  of  the  people  as  to  the  character  of 
Andrew  Jackson,  and  as  to  the  good  or  evil  effect  of  his  teaching  and 
example  upon  the  American  people,  and  especially  upon  American  poli 
tics,  there  has  been  no  difference  as  to  the  depth  of  that  impress,  or  the 
wonderful  -personality  of  the  man.  When  the  news  of  his  death  was  sent 
over  the  land,  there  were  many  disposed  to  criticise  and  resent  the  high 
eulogies  that  were  pronounced  upon  him  by  those  whose  example  and 
leader  he  had  been,  and  a  few  who  belittled  his  powers  and  laid  his 
achievements  upon  opportunity  and  chance;  yet  sober  history,  viewing 
him  from  this  distance,  must  pronounce  upon  the  injustice  of  that  charge. 
He  'vas  one  of  the  great  men  of  America,  whether  viewed  in  the  light  of 
his  achievements  or  in  the  obedient  following  that  supported  his  fortunes 
through  many  troubled  years,  and  bequeathed  to  after  generations  the 
views  and  prejudices  they  had  imbibed  from  him.  The  semi-official  holi 
day  that  is  observed  on  the  eighth  of  January — the  anniversary  of  the 
battle  of  New  Orleans — by  the  democracy  of  many  states,  is  but  one  form 
of  that  admiration  in  which  the  hero  of  that  battle  was  held  by  men  who 
were  living  long  ere  he  passed  away,  and  have  impressed  upon  those 
about  them  the  deep  feeling  with  which  they  venerate  the  memory  of 
their  old-time  chief. 

While  many  eulogies  of  the  dead  were  pronounced  ere  Jackson  was  laid 
in  the  tomb,  there  were  few  of  a  more  direct  and  sincere  character,  and 
that  touched  his  inner  life  more  closely  than  the  tender  words  spoken  by 
Roger  Taney,  chief-justice  of  the  United  States,  when  he  said:  "The 
whole  civilized  world  already  know  how  bountifully  he  was  endowed  by 
Providence  with  these  high  gifts  which  qualified  him  to  le;'.d,  both  as  a 
soldier  and  a  statesman.  But  those  only  who  were  around  him  in  times 
of  anxious  deliberation,  when  great  and  mighty  interests  were  at  stake, 
and  who  were  with  him,  also,  in  the  retired  scenes  of  domestic  life,  in  the 
rnidst  of  his  family  and  friends,  can  fully  appreciate  his  innate  love  of  jus 
tice,  his  hatred  of  oppression  in  every  shape  it  would  assume,  his  mag 
nanimity,  his  entire  freedom  from  any  feeling  of  personal  hostility  to  his 
political  opponents,  and  his  constant  and  unvarying  kindness  and  gentle 
ness  to  his  friends."  As  another  said:  "  His  faults,  whatever  they  were, 
were  such  as  a  majority  of  the  American  citizens  of  his  generation  could 
easily  forgive.  His  virtues,  whatever  they  were,  were  such  as  a  majority 
of  American  citizens  of  the  last  generation  could  warmly  admire.  People 
may  hold  what  opinions  they  will  respecting  the  merits  or  importance  of 
this  man,  but  no  one  can  deny  that  his  invincible  popularity  is  worthy  of 
consideration ;  for  what  we  lovingly  admire,  that,  in  some  degree,  we  are. 
It  is  chiefly  as  the  representative  man  of  the  combative-rebellious  period 
of  American  history  that  he  is  interesting  to  the  student  of  Ameiican  his 
tory.  .  .  .  The  circumstances  of  his  childhood  nourished  Kis  pecuh 


ESTIMATE    OF    HIM    AND    HIS    DEEDS.  64! 

iaritics.  He  was  a  poor  boy  in  a  new  country,  without  a  father  to  teach 
him  moderation,  obedience  and  self-control.  The  border  warfare  of  the 
Revolution  whirled  him  hither  and  thither  ;  made  him  fierce  and  exact 
ing ;  taught  him  self  reliance ;  accustomed  him  to  regard  his  opponent  as 
a  foe.  Those  who  are  not  for  us  are  against  us,  and  they  who  are  against 
us  are  to  be  put  to  death,  was  the  Carolina  doctrine  during  the  later  years 
of  the  war.  The  early  loss  of  his  elder  brother,  his  own  hard  lot  in  the 
Camden  prison,  the  terrible  and  needless  suffering  of  his  younger  brother, 
the  sad  but  heroic  death  of  his  mother,  were  events  not  calculated  to  give 
the  softer  traits  the  mastery  within  him.  All  the  influences  of  his  early 
years  tended  to  develop  a  very  positive  cast  of  character,  to  make  him 
self-helpful,  decisive,  indifferent  to  danger,  impatient  of  contradiction  and 
disposed  to  follow  up  a  quarrel  to  the  death." 

Mr.  Parton's  estimate  of  Jackson  and  his  deeds  may  not  be  altogether 
true,  yet  it  is  essentially  in  the  direction  of  truth:  ''Autocrat  as  he  was, 
Andrew  Jackson  loved  the  people,  the  common  people,  the  sons  and 
daughters  of  toil,  as  truly  as  they  loved  him  and  believed  in  them  as 
they  believed  in  him.  lie  was  in  accord  with  his  generation.  He  had  a 
clear  perception  that  the  toiling  millions  arc  not  a  class  in  the  community, 
but  arc  the  community.  He  knew  and  felt  that  government  should  exist 
only  for  the  benefit  of  the  governed  ;  that  the  strong  are  strong  only  that 
they  may  aid  the  weak  ;  that  the  rich  are  rightfully  rich  only  that  they  may 
so  combine  and  direct  the  labors  of  the  poor  as  to  make  labor  more  profit 
able  to  the  laborer,  lie  did  not  comprehend  these  truths  as  they  are 
demonstrated  by  Jefferson  and  Spencer,  but  he  had  an  intuitive  and 
instinctive  perception  of  them.  And  in  his  most  autocratic  moments  he 
really  thought  that  he  was  fighting  the  battle  of  the  people,  and  doing 
their  will  while  baffling  the  purposes  of  their  representatives.  If  he  had 
been  a  man  of  knowledge  as  well  as  force,  he  would  have  taken  the  part 
of  the  people  more  effectually,  and  left  to  his  successors  an  increased 
power  of  doing  good,  instead  of  better  facilities  for  doing  harm.  He 
appears  always  to  have  meant  well.  But  his  ignorance  of  law,  history, 
politics,  science,  of  everything  which  he  who  governs  a  country  ought  to 
know,  was  extreme.  ...  In  his  wild,  fiery  way  he  loved  justice,  but 
when  excited  by  passion  he  was  totally  incapable  of  discriminating  be 
tween  right  and  wrong.  He  was  like  his  own  Mississippi,  which  flows  on 
with  useful  placidity  until  the  levee  gives  way,  and  then  is  instantly  con 
verted  into  a  roaring,  rushing,  devastating  torrent — and  the  levee  is  made 
of  material  that  cannot  resist  an  extraordinary  pressure.  .  .  .  He 
came  home  from  the  wars,  the  pride,  the  darling  of  the  Nation.  No  man 
in  this  country  had  ever  been  subjected  to  such  a  torrent  of  applause,  and 
few  men  have  been  less  prepared  to  withstand  it  by  education,  reflection 
an  i  experience.  He  accepted  the  verdict  which  the  Nation  passed  upon 


642  ANDREW    JACKSON. 

his  conduct.  Well  pleased  with  himself  and  with  his  countrymen,  he  wrote 
those  lofty  letters  to  Mr.  Monroe,  the  burthen  of  which  is  that  a  Presi 
dent  of  the  United  States  should  rise  superior  to  party  spirit,  appoint  no 
man  to  office  for  party  reasons,  but  be  President  of  the  whole  people, 
judging  every  applicant  for  Presidential  favor  by  his  conduct  alone.  His 
feud  with  Adair  and  his  quarrel  with  General  Scott  soon  showed  that, 
with  all  his  popularity  and  fine  words,  he  was  the  same  Andrew  Jackson 
as  of  old,  unable  to  bear  opposition  and  prone  to  believe  the  worst  of 
those  who  did  not  yield  to  him  implicitly.  .  .  .  He  was  started  for 
the  Presidency.  He  was  passive  ;  he  was  clay  in  the  hands  of  two  or  three 
friendly  potters.  Tennessee  took  up  his  name  with  enthusiasm  ;  Pennsyl 
vania  brought  it  prominently  before  the  Nation;  he  wrote  his  tariff  letter; 
he  voted  for  internal  improvements  ;  the  Monroe  correspondence  was  pub^ 
lished ;  he  won  a  plurality  of  electoral  votes,  but  was  not  elected.  His 
disappointment  was  keen,  and  his  wrath  burned  anew  and  with  increased 
fury  against  the  man  who  had  given  the  office  to  Mr.  Adams.  ...  If 
General  Jackson  was  passive  during  the  campaign  of  1824,  he  was  passive 
no  longer.  The  exposure  of  the  circumstances  attending  his  marriage, 
accompanied  by  unjust  comments  and  gross  exaggerations,  the  reflections 
upon  his  mother,  the  revival  of  every  incident  of  his  life  that  could  be 
unfavorably  construed,  kept  him  in  a  blaze  of  wrath.  Determined  to 
triumph,  he  took  an  active  part,  at  home  and  abroad,  in  the  canvass.  He 
was  elected ;  but,  in  the  moment  of  his  triumph,  his  wife,  than  whom  no 
wife  was  ever  more  tenderly  beloved,  was  lost  to  him  forever.  The 
calamity  that  robbed  life  of  all  its  charm  deepened,  and,  as  it  were,  sanctified 
his  political  resentments.  His  enemies  had  slain  her,  he  thought.  Adams 
had  permitted,  if  he  had  not  prompted,  the  circulation  of  the  calumnies 
that  destroyed  her.  Clay,  he  firmly  believed,  had  originated  the  crusade 
against  her;  for  this  strange  being  could  believe  any  evil  thing  of  one 
whom  he  cordially  hated.  Broken  in  spirit,  broken  in  health,  the  old 
man,  cherishing  what  he  deemed  a  holy  wrath,  but  meaning  to  serve  his 
country  well,  went  to  Washington,  to  find  it  crowded  with  hungry  claim 
ants  for  reward."  His  work  there  has  been  already  given  ;  for  the  influ 
ences  of  that  work,  no  mere  sketch  of  historical  fact  can  be  adequate,  but 
must  be  sought  for  in  the  traditions  and  life  of  the  American  people;  in 
the  political  conditions,  beliefs  and  practices  of  to-day. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

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